


Where Fire Met Water

by mourn3d, trepidatingboarfetus



Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Consensual Underage Sex, F/M, M/M, Mentions of religion, Roleplay, tags are going to be edited I'm not good at them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28838313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mourn3d/pseuds/mourn3d, https://archiveofourown.org/users/trepidatingboarfetus/pseuds/trepidatingboarfetus
Summary: Michael Townley, the All-State Quarterback of North Yankton High School gets his whole world changed when a certain beautiful faced Canadian named Trevor Philips appears in his first period classroom. The two instantly get a connection that neither of them had ever felt with anybody else, and now have to struggle with their emotions and trying to fit in with the outside world.
Relationships: Amanda De Santa/Michael De Santa, Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips, Trevor Philips/Brad Snider
Comments: 18
Kudos: 19





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a roleplay that we have created between the two of us basically to just write out and be able to work out some things with our busy brains and be able to write a little on the side if we didn't want to take time and write an entire fanfiction. We hope you enjoy our child!! There is definitely more to come.

The boy sighed, shutting off his car and pocketing his keys, before get stepped out of the vehicle. A beanie covered his dark locks and shielded his ears from the painfully cold winds of the stupid bitterly cold year long winter North Yankton had to offer. He headed up the entrance of the high school, his letter man jacket fitted perfectly on his bulky muscles. He headed down to his locker, cursing softly as he rubbed his freezing cold hands together and tried to unlock his locker. He forced it open after a few tries and slammed the lock into the top part of the locker and grabbed his books, turning around and slamming the locker and coming face to face with a beautiful blonde girl.

"Hi Michael." She said sweetly, her cherry colored lips pulled into a beautiful dazzling smile that made Michael go dumb for a moment, until he heard the cat-call of a group of idiot jocks yell _Townley!_ as they passed to head to taunt the coach down the hall. Michael turned to look at them and scowled, pulling off his beanie and shoved it into his back. He opened his mouth to talk to the girl, but she giggled and hurried off with her brunette friend. He tried saying something but instead cursed and went to get to his class.

He went into the classroom, taking a seat near the back of the room and taking a look around at the people he'd known for six years. Man, he really need to make something of himself this year. He needed to go out with a bang, literally. He eyed a group of girls, smiling at them when they all looked his way. He knew for a fact he could get any girl in this school, the only question was which one. He smiled and waved and mouthed 'hi' to one of the girls, who grinned and bat her lashes at him. _Oh yeah._

Chestnut strands whipped into his eyes, and he blew them out furiously, pissed off to be in yet another fucking school system in...how many did this make? He'd lost count at this point. It wasn't even worth keeping track anyway because school was a farce that anyone with half a brain could tell, and he was going straight to work right after he got tired enough of this bullshit. He wasn't even sure what kept him going besides his mom's bitching in his ear. The only good thing about this shithole so far was that he'd managed to find a quick friend in this Brad guy who lived a few trailers down from his. He was as dumb as a box of rocks, but he was easy going, didn't ask many questions, and he always had a supply of booze around since his dad worked at a distillery about an hour away. And that was all that mattered to Trevor.

"Philips!" the husky blond shouted at him as he darted into building to blow hot air from his mouth into his miserably cold gloveless hands. "What's shakin', motherfucker? It's a cold one!"

OK, how many fucking times did he have to be subject to that word before it would go away? His lip curled slightly as he spat, "I _told_ you not to call me that, fucking prick. Also, it's not that cold, but you're a pussy."

"Then why are you trying to warm your hands?" Brad looked at him funny. Of all the times to point out the obvious as they were heading into class.

"Some of us don't have the privilege of owning shit like winter attire, you stooge."

As he walked into the room for his first period Chem 1 class, his eyes went straight to the back where they met the same ones that reminded him of the Pacific Ocean he'd just left. He knew the body they belonged to. Even in his very short time in North Yankton, it was hard not to. People talked. He also know that they lived in the same vicinity thanks to Brad, even if they were still worlds apart in his mind.

Oh the things he wanted to do to that hair, those lips, that tongue...ah fuck, he needed to pay attention to what the damn teacher was saying or he was going to get kicked from here too.

Before he turned, he gave one last glance back at the remarkable creature known as Townley around the hallways and was confused when his gaze was returned, so he quickly moved back around into his seat as if his ass was on fire, and he'd been busted tagging the boys bathroom or some shit. Why did he feel so fucking shy around this guy?

Michael wasn't exactly paying attention to the class either, his lips pressed to the end of his pencil as he stared right back at this guy he had never seen before. His eyebrow quirked up as he turned away and his eyes drifted down slowly. Curious of him. He'd never seen him before, but the one warning of him was the fact he was hanging out with Brad Snider.

He never really talked to the guy, but barely anyone ever did. Besides the kids that wanted drugs or alcohol or some shit, he didn't really know. He kept his distance and hung around the guys. He stayed away from people like that usually. But this kid...something caught his eye and he wasn't quite sure what for.

He looked up at the teacher before they could snap at him for being off track, fiddling through the papers of his notebook and writing some bullshit "notes" down on the papers. His gaze shifted back to the boys though,...he was new, definitely, but why did he have to look at him? Why was it....so odd. He tried to dismiss the thoughts, he's just a new kid trying to get used to the environment, that's all. He turned his attention back to the class and sighed roughly, hating every minute of this.

He was silent the entire class, barely paying attention and staring at the back of the stranger before him. He flinched at the sound of the bell ending the period and heading over to introduce himself despite the look from Snider that he got, he leaned on the desk and offered a smile. "Michael Townley. You must be new here."

The secret to Michael was, like pretty much any high school boy, he was different when he wasn't around his buddies. He would be polite and introduce himself, whereas with his pals he would poke fun and probably bully the kid down, now he wore a handsome smile and a nice little slight-pose in front of the boy he made eye contact with, taking in the sight up close now.

The hair was something he wasn't exactly used to, but he'd be damned to say it wasn't the most gorgeous thing he had seen on somebody. A _woman_ \-- wait no _fuck_ this was a dude, what was he even saying? He thought it gave the guy a good look. And the eyes were something he hadn't seen before either. A sparkle in them, something that none of his jock buddies had at all. It was interesting to look at. He tilted his head slightly, looking at Brad as well and trying to not make a rude comment towards the other, he wanted to make a good impression on this....handsom-...stranger.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at it again with the roleplay! They finally meet...and...Michael gets a little excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very, very flirty highschoolers ahead. You have been warned

A pen dropped to the floor from somewhere, and it took Trevor exactly twenty-three seconds to recognize that it had fallen from his fingers.

Even the goddamn classroom could be called chilly -- was the boiler room malfunctioning in this clapboard piece of old shit school? -- and yet here he was, nearly sweating to death over the thought of looking up at the pile of figurative sex oozing before him, battling his pretty dark lashes, and introducing himself. He'd cream his fucking jeans right then and there if he didn't have US History next...well, and if Brad didn't currently look like he wanted to snap the handsome Mr. Townley's poor neck.

"Enchanté, Michel." Then he glared over at Brad whose face was redder by the minute. "Brad, what the _fuck_ is your problem?" His blond friend backed up a bit but still didn't look all that happy about something, so he filed it away in his memories under _Shit To Ask About Later_.

The cute guy before him laughed softly but also appeared amazed. "You can speak another language?"

Trevor grinned widely. "Oh, that's just one of my many talents. I was born in Canada, but I've been raised all over." He extended his hand, and Michael shook it. "Trevor Philips. It's a pleasure to meet you. I see you already know my only friend in this sad sack town. Say hi, Brad."

Brad sneered while Trevor chuckled behind his hand.

Michael grinned and smoothly nodded, tilting his head as he looked over at Brad and offered a small grin in his direction, though he knew for a fact that Michael could turn into a real asshole when given the chance, hopefully Brad won't spoil the fun Michael was may or may not intending to have with Trevor. This guy was different to him. For some reason. He couldn't exactly put his finger on it though.

"Howdy do, Snider." Michael said, in a casual voice, but nothing like what he was talking to Trevor in. He turned his attention back to him though. "Canada, so this kind of weather must not be too big of a change for you then, eh?" he teased gently, "It's nice to meet you, Trevor. I'm sure we'll run in to one another a lot. It's good to make friends in a school like this." He gestured around.

"Well I better get to class..we only have like five minutes to get there anyways, and my next period teacher is kind of a dick." he chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey, I hope we can talk again sometime though. Maybe the football game, Friday night?" he offered. He was being too friendly for his own good. "I'm sure we'll have _some_ classes together, hopefully." he added with a soft chuckle.

"Anyways, Trevor. I should go. It was great talking with you." he said, then moved to leave, as he went out the door two guys came up and ruffled his hair, cackling and wrapping their arms around his neck as they all walked down the hall and laughed like the idiot popular kids they were. Michael's thoughts and heart still on Trevor, though. He hoped they could talk again today.

Trevor stood there, staring after Michael still, watching the slight swagger in his hips as he walked with his friends and wondered -- no, hoped -- it was put there just for him.

Was he overthinking shit? Mother would knock his head right out of the clouds and back down to Earth for ever believing he was special enough to catch the attention of someone so unattainable to some piece of shit such as himself. He knew that, and yet....

And yet, when he had looked into Michael's sunny face, into his eyes as blue as the skies he had soared in his dreams as a kid, for one moment, he had truly believed he could be worth something to someone.

His heart fluttered wildly within his ribcage as he put his hand to it, slowing his breathing little by little until he could feel himself return to normal. Did his ears deceive him? Friday night? A football game? It all sounded like a fucking date.

He gulped his heart back down.

OK, what fucking class did he have next? Oh, US History, right. He grumbled to himself. It wasn't a hard class necessarily, but it was so fucking boring, and he'd yet to meet a teacher who could make it interesting.

He gathered his things and hightailed it to beat the bell.

"Glad you decided to join us, Mr. Philips," a very short balding moustachioed man quipped bitterly as he straightened some papers at his desk. "We were getting concerned."

The class snickered. Except one.

The only open desk...Jesus Christ, the only open desk _had_ to be right in front of Michael Townley. And fuck yes, he wanted to see him again, but he didn't think his damn heart could make it again through so _soon_.

Michael's gaze lifted when he heard that familiar name, a smile instantly coming to his lips at the sight of Trevor, minus his compadre which Michael was definitely thankful of. "Trevor, hey!" He said politely, smiling and leaning in when he was able to sit down, keeping his voice down so that they wouldn't be any trouble to the teacher. "Miss me that much?" he flirted under his breath, he inhaled a little, taking in the scent of the man naturally and leaning back. Sinking. What was going on with him? This wasn't how you were supposed to act around a new friend, he wasn't like this with any of the guys, You don't think about getting your lips on the back of your teammates neck like he does Trevor. What was his problem?

This guy was something he had never gotten used to, something rare, like a hidden gem. Shipped all the way here from Canada. A rare antique he just wanted to worship.

Now, this was getting weird. What the _hell_ were these thoughts? Why couldn't he control himself around him? He'd only seen those blazing hot eyes for a few minutes and he wanted to torch himself with them.

"Miss you, oh don't tease, Townley." Trevor mumbled, not breaking eye contact with the front of the room.

"Tease?" Michael grinned, carefully, he pressed his Reebok into the back of Trevor's heel, the touch making both of their heart-rates speed and thump in their ears. Michael had such a playful smile on his lips. He knew he could win girls over with just the looks he could give with his eyes, he wanted to get Trevor the same way. His looks, the way he talked, the way he smiled, everything. He knew he could do it, and he really wanted to know how this was going to work out with a man like Trevor. He could really see there was something hidden in there somewhere. He wanted to get it out of him.

Whether that be through friendship, or through his heart, he was willing to try and see how well his game was going. Maybe find something his heart had needed all along.

Michael leaned over, placing a hand over the middle of the back of Trevor's back, "Hey, man, say we get out of here, need to talk to the principal, bathroom break, whatever your excuse is, we get out of here, and I show you some real fun around this school, huh?" he offered, grinning. "There _is_ some pros to this school, no matter how many junkies rule the lunch room."

The first thought that came to his head and almost automatically slipped out was something snarky about _what the fuck is your issue with junkies because then we have an issue,_ but then it slowly sunk in what this guy was implying, and he nodded dumbly. He froze momentarily, trying to figure out what to say and if he even had the balls to go through with this because this dude unnerved the fuck out of him like no guy had ever done before. It wasn't like he'd never gotten his rocks off before, but goddamn, there was just something about the way this guy made him feel...he didn't even feel like himself. It's like he was outside of himself having an out-of-body experience or some shit. Trevor was used to having to step up and take control of everything when it came to deals, to the talking, to the fucking, to _every single damn thing,_ but there was just something about this Townley character.

He wanted to step out of himself and let himself go. He felt safe. He felt--

If he said like a girl, he knew he was going insane. He wanted to bang his head and punch himself.

But what the fuck else _was_ it then?

Shaking his head and clearing his throat, he raised one hand impatiently and place the other over his belly, feigning stomach problems. "Hey, teach! Can Townley show me where the bathroom is? My breakfast is doing a number on my stomach, and if I don't get there soon, you're all going to be smelling it." Baldy wrinkled his nose and appeared annoyed by the outburst, but Trevor dug in and groaned loudly for effect. "Seriously, eh! Don't you Americans understand the concept of explosive diarrhea?"

A few girls in the classroom complained while Baldy narrowed his eyes at Trevor. "Why does Mr. Townley need to go with you?"

Internally, he sighed exasperatedly because Christ, why did this guy have to be so fucking suspicious of all days, but outwardly, he started to cough enough to force himself into dry heaving, so in between heavy gasps of air, he muttered, "He's the only person I know in this whole class, maybe? Is it that big of a deal? Would you rather me puke or _shit_ on your desk?"

There were gasps from around him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that Baldy backed off a bit when he started dry heaving and flicked his wrist toward the door. "Just go and tell him how to get to the nurse's office too, Michael."

Trevor smiled graciously and collected his things, thanking him with a nod as he left quickly. He didn't have the patience to wait for his accomplice completely, but he did stand to the side of the door, waiting frantically, feeling every bit of his nerves on fire, but as soon as Michael's ocean blue eyes came through the door and settled on him, he felt himself calm as he fell in line and matched his footsteps.

"So what's this great plan of yours when we get there, Mikey?" he mumbled while looking around them nervously. He wasn't exactly sure where the fuck he'd pulled that nickname from, but it just felt right? It felt nice, actually. It was as nice as the ass he found himself staring at until he stopped suddenly, and he bumped into it and the back it was attached to. Townley turned around and gave him an odd but not exactly _bad_ look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smut has yet to come! I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, you gotta do what you gotta do, sometimes. :D


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;)

Michael walked on, looking around dismissively as he went through the halls without having to really think where he wanted to go. He wanted to go to the bathroom furthest away from here. Wanted to be more...secluded. To see what Trevor wanted from him, even though he initiated this whole thing. He knew where most of his friends were, so he wanted to be sure he was going somewhere they wouldn't be disturbed. It was time to let himself go, literally.

"Can't it be a secret?" he teased as they walked, his thumbs hooked on the pockets of his jeans as he walked, though whenever he was bumped into he looked at Trevor curiously. He wasn't upset or anything, just surprised by the touch from behind. He nodded slowly and jerked a thumb in the direction of the entrance to the bathroom, the teachers had it propped open, but that was no problem for Michael. "You think you can trust me?" he asked and then watched at Trevor went through, his eyes landing on his ass like it was the most normal thing in the world. He bit his lip and sighed slow as he followed after him, his foot sliding the door stop away and allowing the door to swing shut slowly and quietly.

"So, Trev." he said casually, moving towards him slowly. "I've noticed your eyes, it's....something different. It- well-... it puts something on me that I've never felt. At least from....well...a guy." he said slowly and carefully. He moved closer to him, almost like a wolf circling its prey. "I'm just, curious, I guess. Of you." he tilted his head, smiling slow.

He didn't know exactly what to say. How to ease into something like this. It was normal, he supposed. Two highschool kids, obviously attracted to each other, it just...usually wasn't during class in a bathroom, almost half an hour since they first met. It was all or nothing to Michael now. He leaned in, his eyes still on Trevor's this time perhaps a little more lidded than before. He lowered his voice, glancing to the mirror that had a perfect reflection of them.

"I'm willing to try, at least. If you are."

He leaned in quickly, pressing his mouth to Trevor's with a easy hum, his hands in his pockets for a moment, before they carefully moved and placed over his lower sides, using them to guide his own body closer to Trevor's. Their mouths moved in an odd fashion, perfectly, almost. As he got closer to him he noticed the height difference between them, Trevor was just a bit taller than him, which was amusing just because Michael knew for a fact that he wouldn't let Trevor take control no matter how tall he was compared to Michael, he was always the kid in the family that was shorter than the rest. Damn his genes.

He wasn't entirely sure where to go from here, it was easier for him with girls he supposed. They would instantly melt and giggle and flaunt around with him. This man, though, he had no idea how well he would react to Michael trying to do anything with him besides kiss. It was new territory for him, but god did he want to try. He was determined to get his lips over every part of that body at some point in time.

These lips felt so rough on him, teasing and reaching all the right places, such amazing sensations, _goddamn,_ but at the same time, they were so soft that they were driving him fucking crazy, he couldn't stand being touched like this without doing _something_. His hands wound themselves around the warm body in front of him and drew it close, hugging it, stroking it, and then ended up in his hair, grasping at it, trying to pull as much as possible so he could make the guy in front of him understand how he was making him feel.

When they stopped, huffing and panting into each other's mouths slightly, he stared into Michael's half-lidded eyes, and he thought to himself slyly that, yes, Townley surely fucking understood him now. He licked his lips. "I'm more than willing to try, Mikey." One hand slithered slowly down the front of Michael's t-shirt until it grabbed the button clasp and jerked his Levi's back and forth while biting his tongue between his teeth before letting go and trailing further to stroke what laid under the zipper just to fuck with him. If this guy was going to run, it would be now. "But how far are _you_ willing to go is the question here. I'm always balls to the wall in everything I do."

He crossed his fingers in his mind but kept his eyes steady on Michael because he didn't want to seem like the sort of pussy who backs down, even though it didn't feel like he had to be on guard. It felt like the walls could come down though he wasn't quite sure why he got that notion just from being around him, but he was just easy-going. Kind of like Brad, but Brad was a sort of dumbass which explained that feeling. He still had to watch what he said and did around him.

Michael gazed back at him just as unyielding, even if he looked a little nervous. "Oh yeah?" He pushed Trevor against the bathroom wall and leaned into him, and holy fuck, Trevor had at least an inch on him, but he still felt so damn small under those eyes! "Everything?" Michael brought his hand up against Trevor's cheek and brushed it softly, grinning at him before sliding a finger around a few strands of hair and curling it.

What the solid fuck was this guy doing to him?? He pushed his back into the wall and moaned, biting his bottom lip. Jesus, his pants were getting tight as fuck, and he wasn't sure he wanted to get caught at a new school, but he didn't really give two shits at the moment the way this was going. The only thing he knew was that his heart was hammering wildly against his chest as if it were trying to break free, and if he didn't do something, it would soon explode and be everywhere. "Yeah?" he answered breathlessly, voice cracking.

Michael chuckled cockily in front of him. "That's cute." Then horror of all horrors, his tongue attacked Trevor's earlobe, and that was Trevor's fucking undoing. Who the fuck had told this dark-haired angel that his ears were his weakness? Michael sucked gently, and by the time he was licking and biting, Trevor was a mess, shivering against him.

"Fuck, you don't play fair, Townley," he whispered hotly. 

"I was never taught to." he muttered against his ear, one hand moving to place against the small of Trevor's back, bringing his body even closer to his own. It fit perfect against his own, like the two were puzzle pieces that fit together perfect, the _only_ perfect match for each other. Like they were destined to be like this all along. The only thing was that Trevor was thousands of miles away from him his entire life.

His hips dragged up against Trevor's aware of the hardness that had started, and he was certainly not far behind him. His teeth dragged onto the earlobe, suckling softly as he slid his fingers through the hair on the back of Trevor's head, he closed his eyes as he sucked on his ear, he gave no warning to what he did next -- which was to pull Trevor's head back and almost press the top of it to the wall -- he instead snickered a tiny bit and took his lips off of the man's ear, his lips instead attaching to his neck, giving small pecks, before he licked a very messy stripe across his throat, his lips attached to the skin right below his jaw and he bit, rather hard, right there, his hands smoothing over Trevor's sides as his body reacted instantly with the bite and pushed against him. He smiled and chuckled softly as he moved one hand and grabbed onto his hip, rolling his own into Trevor's as his hand gripped and held the other still.

He let out a groan deep in his throat at the pleasure that grew in his gut, his eyes rolled back as he pressed his face deep into Trevor's skin, it was soaked in his saliva and made it a lot easier for him to suckle and softly drag his own teeth across. He suckled softly and made soft wet noises as he made a mess of Trevor's neck, of course, he got shit instantly, but it also sounded exactly like what Michael hoped for. Shaky and downright flustered.

"G-Goddammit, Townley- god- shit- people are going to see that, you asshole." he mumbled dumbly as his eyes drifted and stared at the lights above them. His hands carefully sliding back into his hair and holding on though he made no move to try and stop him.

Michael continued with his works, pulling him in close. He definitely wouldn't let up now, there was no stopping this. He couldn't stop this rush he was feeling, and god he just had to take control of him. He wanted to absolutely destroy this Canadian. He pulled on the back of his head again, moving his head straight back and attacking his neck with even more force than before, drawing delicious noises from Trevor that Michael swore he had never heard from another person in his entire fucking life. This guy was absolutely perfect for him.

"I want to rip you apart." he growled to him, sliding his fingers out of his hair and placing his hands against the back of his thighs. He instantly picked him up, bringing his thighs around his waist and pinning him harder against the wall, his hands placing over his chest and stomach, gripping onto the bottom of his shirt and moving his lips back to Trevor's who wouldn't stop with those heart-racing noises. Michael swore he would pass out from all the blood that was going straight to his dick from how badly he was getting turned on in this moment, he kissed Trevor with a burning passion, eyes squeezing shut.

He was silently thankful for all the football practice he went through that gave him these kind of muscles to support Trevor, because they were damn near the same size almost. He dug his fingers back into the other's hips, grunting softly as he ground into him and let out a slow moan himself from the pleasure he was receiving on his own end.

_"Oh, dear god do I want to destroy you."_ he whispered to him.

Trevor's dick throbbed eagerly as his ears perked up at that message. He swallowed thickly, trying to slow his racing heart back down, but it was like trying to run up a steep hill -- he was quickly losing the fucking battle against Michael Townley where wills mattered, and he really didn't care, but damn, he didn't think he'd ever lost it this fast over anyone. There was just something about this guy and how he made him feel, it's like they had been formed for each other ages ago but were only just pieces coming together now.

He whined lowly in his throat and held onto Michael for all he was worth, trying to feel each delicious bit of friction as it came. "Oh holy fucking shit, I want you to," he moaned back.

Michael laughed in his ear, and it was almost sinfully wicked. Painfully so. "You'd like that, huh?" Trevor nodded against him, just ready to get it on and over with because every single bit of him was on fire and alive with feeling, screaming to be touched and used in the worst way, and he just wanted it be over with because he was ready to fucking burst into thousands of pieces at this goddamn point. Michael thrust up into him against, rubbing him in all the best ways, and he wanted to fucking die, Jesus. "What sorts of things would you like me to do to you?"

Trevor sighed heavily and started to slip into a sort of place he'd slipped into a few times before with only a couple of guys, mostly older. "Je veux que tu me tire les cheveux pendant que tu me baises fort. Claque mon cul et appelle-moi des noms sales. Gratter moi et jouir en moi pendant que nous--"(I want you to pull my hair while you fuck me hard. Slap my ass and call me dirty names. Scratch me and cum inside me while we--)

"Mmmm," Michael groaned loudly, cutting him off as he thrust against him again, rubbing in all the best ways. Fuck, he was going to cum soon like this if they didn't stop. "I don't understand what the hell you're saying, but I like how nice it sounds."

He shivered and ducked his head to the side, allowing Michael to swoop in and suck at his neck again. Fucker was definitely looking to make a mark, but Christ, did it feel so damn great. "Townley, please," he laughed, turning a bit red in the face. "You're not a fucking vampire, are you? I don't need a hickey, dammit. I'm supposed to be shitting my guts out in here, remember?"

But Michael paid no attention, still licking and sucking at the same place while Trevor's face grew hotter by the moment. After a minute, he came up for air and glared at Trevor. "Don't ruin the moment talking about shit, Trev, damn." Then he went back to making out with Trevor's poor damn neck and thrusting against his miserable groin, and for fuck's sake, he needed to get off, this was driving him goddamn insane. This _guy_ was driving him insane!

In the distance, coughing could be heard, and then the sound of footsteps pounding against the tile. Trevor's good ear honed into it all as they grew closer, hoped they would keep going past, but knew it was too good to be true when they came too close. He froze and hoped Michael would get the point, whispering, "Hey, shhh, we have a problem here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;))))))))))))))


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ohhHHHOhohohohoh. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ;) part two

Michael stilled instantly, listening in and cursing under his breath since he was very well riled up and wanting to fuck the brains out of Trevor. Now he had to deal with the prick that decided it was time to use the bathroom. He shushed Trevor instantly and turned quickly, still holding onto him tightly and swinging them both into a bathroom stall, sitting himself down and keeping Trevor pinned against his own check, his hands falling to his thighs and holding him there, his eyes dark on Trevor's still as he felt him settle right over his painful erection. He tried to push away the venomous thoughts from earlier, to force himself to not try to fuck himself right up into Trevor in that moment, it was painful, but he'd have to bare it. 

  
  


He held his breath for a moment as he heard the door open and cringed at the sigh that the other man left and heard the soft kicking, so the door was propped open, the fucker must be a teacher. He looked at Trevor, his hands wondering to hold his back and nudge him up closer, almost in a protective manner. His head slowly resting over his shoulder as he screwed his face in a weird way so that he could focus himself and listen in on the person. 

  
  


His hands began to wander, though. Very carefully and slowly, his head turned and he pressed his lips gently to back of his ear, his left hand pressing onto the inner part of his thigh, and ah....right where he knew Trevor was just aching. He pressed his hand in, squeezing softly, then licked a soft line against the back of his ear, grinning slowly and quietly and carefully undoing the belt with both of his hands, holding where the button had been undone and quietly unzipped his hands, then pushed his hand through to get underneath the fabric, his eyes darkening instantly. Oh....of course

  
  


"M......" he muttered, looking at Michael worriedly, who quickly leaned up and glared at him. Michael quickly took his left hand and covered his mouth, pushing his fingers into his cheek as he did so and glared softly at Trevor as he gave Trevor's member a few pulls. He nodded and smiled when his body reacted just the way that he liked it. His hand speeding up and thumb circling his tip. He shook his head and wore a devilish smirk the entire time he took care of Trevor. 

  
  


His hand easily worked over him, his arm bent down as some kind of anchor to keep his legs close to him. This wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, but he knew that it was the closest that he was probably going to get while they were unable to have space to do anything. He wanted to easily just bend Trevor over on a desk, maybe a bleacher, or perhaps maybe in a bed if they got that far, but this….this would have to do for right now. 

  
  


He took his hand away, his eyes still hard on Trevor’s as he spread his tongue all across his hand, before placing it right back where he knew Trevor needed it, and he saw that the man keened instantly for the touches. A grin spread across his face as he sped his hand up, he knew that he could get him. He was so close anyways, he just had to be thoughtful of the other person that was in the bathroom with them or they would be utterly fucked and out in the open to anyone and both of their lives could be ruined, although what part of that mattered? They could go underground and live with each other for their entire lives. 

  
  


Eyes on me, baby. That’s it, that’s right. He mouthed to him, speeding his wrist up and pushing himself against Trevor’s thigh although he knew he probably wouldn’t be getting any kind of release. That’s good...you’re so fucking hot.

  
  


He heard the shifting of the other man in the other stall and his eyes went straight back to being hard, making sure Trevor kept himself quiet, smiling though and nodding him through the sensations with a smirk on his lips. Yeah? You fucking like that? He taunted, his hand tightening around his length as tight as he could while still being able to move. He thought this was hotter than anything he had ever seen in his life, he watched him and felt himself lean in slowly, he quickly took his hand away and kissed him deeply, hand tangling into his hair and yanking his head back again, eyes still on Trevor’s as his head was pulled back, his gaze becoming glossed over as he admired the sight before him. Trevor was something so much more than beauty. He couldn’t put it. He was so much….better than beauty. 

  
  


Almost like a galaxy, the longer you look at the more you see each time. That’s what he saw with Trevor. The little spots on his face, the tiny scars, the way his body twitched and moved with everything he did -- it was all unique and perfect for him. 

  
  


Come on baby, just like that, you’re so good for me. Hey, look...look at me...yeah...yeah that’s it. Uh huh.

  
  


If this was what death was before entering Heaven, then Trevor sure was a lucky bastard, but he wasn't positive he was going that direction in his lifetime, so even still, if it was Hell, it was still an amazing way to go, for fucking sure. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, shielding his brain momentarily from the shining aura that surrounded the angelic devil giving him the most torturous pleasures right now. His senses were being overloaded but in such a fucking wonderful way, he could barely stand it. His toes tried to curl within his old boots. 

Part of him was so pissed because this jackass had to understand how hard it was to stay quiet when someone's stroking you just about to the point of completion only to stop here and there like a goddamn little slutty tease. That was the outermost side of him that was always at the base of him, the part everyone saw. That was the Trevor who took what the fuck he wanted when he wanted, and damn, he wanted to make sounds and moan in this motherfucker's ear, he didn't give any fucks about who was in the bathroom right now with them. Hell, he'd fuck them too, let them watch, whatever they wanted.

  
  


But deeper than that beneath the walls behind the fire in his eyes was the side of him that had been there before it had been beaten by his family and life, and that other side of him was being calmed by the ocean water he saw in the thick blue of Michael's irises. This forgotten part of him had felt the protective hand at his back, the way Michael had held him, the way he felt safe in his arms, and it made him want to blush because he didn't deserve any of it, but it also made him feel good that someone could think about him in that way at all, could be that gentle with him and treat him like a fragile piece of already-cracked China. His body responded to Michael in ways he'd never done to anyone yet, and he even though he really wanted to call out, he gazed into Michael's face and nodded, trying to remain as silent as possible as his cock was worked over to the point where he could take it no more. That familiar warm feeling in his groin began to build, and his eyes rolled backwards as he bit his lip. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his mouth shut, no way at all. It just felt too fucking good, all at once: the hands on him, the kissing, the mindfuck of it, where his head had gone, and the fact that someone was even doing this without anything in return because he sure as fuck knew what he felt beneath his ass as he rocked into it, wishing they could be anywhere but here at the moment...he was going to fucking explode, and it wasn't going to be peaceful. It was going to be the most dirty thing yet he'd ever experienced in his life.

He mouthed to Michael: I'm going to cum, I can't help it, it's so good.

  
  


Michael's eyes darkened as his smiled widened. The hand at his back hugged him closer while the one jerking him gripped a little snugger, and oh God, that was going to do it. It felt like stars were going off inside of him, like he was literally on fire. It was so fucking succulent and mind-numbing. His body seized while one very pained, "Ah!" escaped his lips as he came everywhere between the both of them. 

  
  


Thoroughly embarrassed now, Trevor looked down and saw the mess, then raised his eyes back up at Michael who just grinned at him wickedly. Well, fuck it. If Townley was OK with everything, so was he.

There was a knocking at their stall door, and they both froze in each other's arms, hearts thudding within their chests as they stared frantically at once another, thinking they were busted. "Are you OK in there?" came a concerned voice from the other side. 

  
  


Trevor's eyes darted all over the place while he racked his brain desperately for an answer, but his nerves answered for him with a loud belch. With a red face looking anywhere but Michael, he apologized, "Sorry, sir. I'm having stomach problems today. I'm OK."

  
  


"If you're sure?"

  
  


Yeah, yeah, I'm sure, just fucking go already, dammit. "Yes, sir," he chirruped mechanically. "I swear once I get it all out of me, I'll be fine." Once you get out of here, it will be.

  
  


The guy never answered, but his footsteps answered for him as they plodded away. Trevor let out a heavy sigh and laid his head against Michael's shoulder while the other boy began to giggle slightly against him. "Man, fuck everyone and everything in this school," he mumbled sourly. 

  
  


Michael held him close to himself, a smirk growing across his face as he glanced down at the mess on his hand from Trevor. His own face flushed slightly since he knew he couldn’t get off on this, at least, not until he was out of school and away from all of this, and away from Trevor because he knew if he got even a moments alone with him he would go all out and try to take him in the ways that the back of his eyelids threatened to show him. 

  
  


“Well, usually, people aren’t being jerked off in the bathroom stall, he was worried about you.” he chuckled softly and leaned in softly, peppering the side of his neck with kisses as they stayed there together in Trevor’s afterglow. He looked over, though still held Trevor even though the other man couldn’t catch them anymore. He liked the warmth they shared between their bodies. He looked at his hand, scowling just a tiny bit because he knew he needed to get his load off before it would dry and then he’d had a whole new kind of sickness in his stomach at the feeling of that. Instead, he looked over at Trevor and dragged his tongue across his palm. 

  
  


It was supposed to turn on Trevor, but instead went straight to Michael’s dick, making him close his eyes as he forced the butterflies in his stomach to get out since he didn’t want to pressure anything on Trevor since he was still coming down from his own high, but god, he was going to be uncomfortable all day having to stare at that body all day. He finished cleaning the mess on his hand and softly hooked his hands on the bottom of his thighs and standing up, pressing his back against the stall door and kissing him so that he could taste himself.

  
  


His head dropped to nip against the bottom of Trevor’s neck and smiled to himself. Finally pulling himself up to look Trevor in the eyes and sitting him down so he could fix his pants. He leaned in, the side of his head pressed against Trevor’s as he dropped his voice down an octave. “I’m staying after school today, if you want to come see me again I’ll be in the back of the gym waiting, but we better get back to class before I let myself devour you.” he muttered, pressing a kiss against his ear before opening the stall door and gesturing for him to leave. 

  
  


Trevor looked at him with dark eyes, then quickly left the bathroom, their arms close to each other, as if Michael was offering for him to take it if he wanted, which he gladly did. They walked together, Trevor’s eyes wandering to the boy's face who was glancing down the halls they passed in case there was anybody there. 

  
  


A few classrooms before they got to their room, Michael gently unhooked his arm from Trevor’s grasp and put his hands in his pockets. “I’ll go ahead, you hang back a little, though, okay?” he asked, looking at Trevor and smiling slowly. Silently praying to this angel that nobody would notice his hard-on as he was about to walk into the classroom. He watched him for a moment, then slowly backed up and opened the door, walking into the classroom.

  
  


“I think Philips is going to be a-okay.” he said casually to the class as he went to sit down at his desk, his eyes the emerald eyes of a girl in the back and he paused for a moment, seeing her eyes dip and lips quirk up in a little flirty smile at the sight of Michael like that. He scoffed inwardly and nodded a little, before taking a seat, grabbing onto his bag and shuffling through it to get his notebook out and take notes since he would probably get in trouble from the mustached asshole. He took some notes, looking up slowly and smiling a tiny bit at Trevor, leaning back in his seat and instantly resting his feet with Trevor’s when he took a seat. The front of his shoe gently nudged against the side of Trevor’s, almost like a hidden hand hold. He thought as he stared at the delicate notes he took. He thought about the seas of paper that he could make describing his time with Trevor, no matter how short it actually was, he could be very descriptive. Every time he tried to keep his mind off of it, he blinked and could see Trevor spread out on his lap and the face he made whenever he came, or the face he made when Michael ate his cum. God, his dick was not going to be having a good day, today. He’d probably take care of it during lunch or something, praying to god that maybe he’d have the same lunch time as Trevor, but then again he kind of wanted to wait for them to have time to make it a lot better...and more pleasurable for the both of them at the same time. 

  
  


In conclusion, Michael wanted to fuck his brains out.

  
  


Michael could picture himself there behind him, or hell, in front of him, either his hand occupied in pulling his head back, or his chest pressed up against Trevor’s on the couch or in the back of a car. The thought made him softly sigh and drop a hand down to his pants, pressing the side of his hand to his hardness, not so much for someone to be able to tell, but just enough to slightly relieve himself in the aching pain and the want he had for Trevor. He swear he was going to explode right now if he lost control of touching himself, he swore a little under his breath, softly moving his shoe to stroke the side of Trevor’s foot as he did so as a small note that he was definitely doing something as the class went silent and a documentary came up about some kind of war in the past. 

  
  


_“Sweet Jesus.”_ Michael said when the lights were flicked off so they could see the projector. He gulped a little and looked at Trevor. The darkness did something to him.

  
  


Trevor's mind was still reeling from everything that had transpired in the bathroom, and his heart was still galloping within his chest walls like some possessed thoroughbred determined to break free from everything. He felt his pulse at his neck and took a deep breath, smiling secretly to himself, and then felt a shoe at his like a hand nudging at his back, and the smiled widened along with quickly reddening cheeks. He barely knew this guy except from seeing him around since he'd moved into the trailer park, and they already shared this little hidden treasure between them that no one else knew about. Fuck, he was pretty damn sure no one else knew about _this_ side of their star quarterback. 

  
  


Michael had licked his cum clean from his hand and swapped spit with him right afterward, oh my fucking damn. No, no one definitely knew that about him. Hell, he wasn't sure even he'd had that clue about him at the start of the morning. He felt sweaty and hot just thinking about all of that again, Jesus.

  
  


He was only halfway paying attention to what their teacher was droning on about, but he knew it involved an old film when the projector made its way from the back with people scooting their desks to make room for it in the middle of the room. The lights cut out, and he could hear Michael swear something under his breath but couldn't quite hear him, but by the way his freshly-white Reebok was stroking Trevor's dirty brown boot, he could tell that something was definitely up.

  
  


Oh shit, wait...something probably was up.

  
  


Trevor wanted to feel bad for him. He really did, especially with how well Townley had treated him earlier, how he'd made him feel like something precious and worthy of being touched, but well, damn, turnabout was fair play, wasn't it? And a part of him really wanted to know how stormy those blue eyes could get when he was on the verge of being sexually unhinged. He wanted to see him wait, wanted to know what it would be like to live that dangerously close to a ferocious tsunami ready to unleash itself, to feel him come undone at the end of it all because his mind definitely was definitely curious about what his definition of _I want to destroy you_ meant. God, did he want to fucking know. 

He'd been looking for something perfect to destroy him for the longest time, and here it was, delivered to him in this stupid American town close to the Canadian border in the form of this savior named Michael. It was almost too wonderful to be true.

  
  


Taking a piece of paper, he scribbled a quick note on it, asking Townley if he could be a good boy during school, and he would definitely hang around afterward to meet up and make it more than worth his while, but he had to be quiet too. Then scooting sideways, he delivered the note inconspicuously while pretending to watch the Korea documentary. A sideways glance told him that Michael was unfolding it as silently as possible and reading it, and by the surprised way he was currently eyeballing Trevor patiently, Trevor could tell he wasn't opposed, so after a quick look to see if anyone was paying attention -- which of course, most were either starting to snore softly or doodling in their notebooks, and even their teacher appeared bored while staring vacantly out the window -- he deftly moved his left hand underneath Michael's desk in the dark of the room and stroked his hand up and down the inside seams of his Levi's, gradually getting closer to the object he had been seeking out all along. When his fingers danced lightly over Michael's hard-on, he heard him grunt both painfully and lustfully, then watched as his eyelids screwed shut while mouthing numbers to himself from a countdown of ten.

  
  


_Cute._

  
  


He wondered how far he could take this as he worried his bottom lip. Michael opened his eyes back up, and they stared at each other pensively yet fiercely, almost as if they were trying to pierce once another just by gaze alone. Michael smirked at him and relaxed back in his seat which brought him that much closer to Trevor, and it was like winning a fucking prize at the carnival. Trevor grinned sneakily back at him and checked to see if the coast was clear before rubbing his hand against Michael just a little rougher this time around. 

  
  


Michael sighed, throwing his hands behind his head to cradle it, and bit the tip of his tongue. He looked downright frustrated. Deliciously so. It thrilled the fuck out of Trevor.

  
  


_That's right, c'mon, Mikey. I know you want me._

  
  


He felt him up again, relishing in what he could tell was underneath those jeans. He couldn't wait to get his fucking hands on that, still wasn't sure how he'd gotten so fucking lucky as to get the attention of this god-like beauty before him because he was just some dumbass redneck scrapping punk kid who no one really wanted, moving from broken home to broken home while this guy looked like he'd been carved straight out of some Roman-Grecian mythological tale. Who was he to be able to stroke what felt like a pretty damn fat fucking dick if he had to say so beneath these jeans? Why was he special? What was going on?

  
  


He didn't like to show how vulnerable he could be to anyone, but as he peered into Michael's eyes while just resting his hand over him, he tried to convey a bit of that on his face and hoped he didn't look like a goddamn idiot psycho doing it. 

Townley got the picture though as his hand slid down and threaded his fingers through with Trevor's, smiling brightly at him through the morning darkness. 

  
  


He could've stayed like that forever, but he noticed that the documentary was rolling through the credits, and a student was jumping up to stop the projector, so he moved his hand away, frowning and shrugging, fucking irritable that their time was cut off, but what else could he do? He sighed inwardly and was just glad to anything beyond actual sex with the guy. Most would be a quickie and done, no more Trevor. He knew how it rolled. At least it seemed like Townley genuinely liked him beyond everything else. 

  
  


As the lights came back on, and their secrets in the darkness were now gone, he at least hoped that was the case.

  
  


Michael’s eyes glazed over with an unspeakable amount of want that he had for the Canadian. He felt the insides of his stomach churn with attraction as he kept his eyes glued on Trevor throughout this. His hand gripping and shaking as he tried to hold him, but eventually gave up and let him take the lead to this, he knew that Trevor would. He knew it deep down in his mind that Trevor wouldn’t leave after what they had done in the bathroom. Something told him that it wouldn’t be hard to have him again, to keep him close. Michael had power now. He had a power that was hidden to anyone, but he had it. An unspeakable force shared between the two of them. He craved it. 

  
  


His eyes now never left Trevor, he wanted to watch him forever, but knew deep down it wouldn’t last that long, so he had to detach himself from anything before he let himself get out of hand again. He kept trying to look, however. His eyes wandered back to Trevor as if he was some type of magnetic force for his eyes. What was so different about this kid from any of the girls? Why did he instantly want to just eat him up?

  
  


He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off yet again by the sound of the school bell. He took the note and shoved it in his pocket, standing and smiling at Trevor, but sighed when he moved away and noticed Brad sitting in the door waiting for him. Fucking Snider. He’d need to figure out what to do with him so that he could have Trevor to himself, rather than the idiot gawking over Trevor’s shoulder at him like he was some rare specimen. Michael knew Brad could and would spill all the little details he knew about Michael, and he sure as hell knew a lot about him. The way he would go around like royalty when he was with the team. The way he was rumored to have fucked a girl out in the parking lot during a game- _which he never got around to denying_ , but it wasn’t true. It wasn’t! Brad could tell that beaut anything and Michael would have nothing to do but sit there and listen

  
  


He stared at Trevor as he left the classroom, eyes shining as he thought of all the things the two could get up to at the end of school. His heart pounding against his chest. He was thankful he had advanced gym next period just purely so that he could work out his frustration. He went through the hall, passing by Trevor and Brad and offering a cheeky smile over his shoulder and looking at Trevor directly in the eyes, before he headed to the gym and into the locker room. 

  
  


He changed quickly into a pair of sweatpants and a regular school football t-shirt. The shirt was a little worn, but nothing too bad. One of the boys in the locker room came in and lightly hit him in the chest, grinning from ear to ear as they passed and laughed softly with each other. 

  
  


“You practicing tonight, MJ?” one of the freckled boys asked him, Michael turned and looked over his shoulder as he tucked his shirt into his sweatpants and tied on his tennis shoes. 

  
  


“Yeah, doing some weight lifting.” Michael said. “I’ll probably stay late, actually.” He said and tried to get his mind off of Trevor in those moments, his voice fell short when he saw Brad come in, he scowled a tiny bit and got dressed, putting his clothes into the locker and slamming it closed, before heading out, a red headed kid named Charles coming up and wrapping his arm across Michael’s broad shoulders.

  
  


He was a pretty muscular kid. He was thankful for that, being able to lift and being able to be well known for his skills in football, he was happy that he had the opportunity. He also knew it did very well with his overall looks, based on the looks he got from the cheerleaders and even the girls in the gym class. He went out and greeted the coach, he laughed with his friends and shoved them off, he went to take his place in the back section of the gym with some of the guys from his team, chuckling and even wrestling some of them playfully. Holding one of the guy’s arms behind his back until the teacher yelled at them to knock it off and get ready to play a round of volleyball. 

  
  


He got into a position near the net, grinning ear to ear as he was instructed to serve and took the ball, he took the ball and hit it hard, starting the game and shouting with the guys to hurry up and do well with the game, listening to the coach who taught them through their “teamwork”. The class went on like this for a while, Michael shouting and laughing and high-fiving his friends, then he was jumping into action and quickly spiking the ball out of their side and into the other teams area. Sweat had begun to go down his face and his shirt had some dark spots where he was sweating. He was a glorious mess.

  
  


As the bell rang signaling the end of class, Trevor frowned to himself while he scooped up his books and supplies but quickly plastered a grin to his face when he noticed Brad hanging outside of the door, waiting to walk with him to the art room because he still didn't have some of the school memorized yet -- he'd been half-asleep and high as a kite for the first couple of days he'd been around because he'd needed something for the anxiety that had crept in, the same way it always did whenever he was plucked from his mom's and placed with someone new. He wished his mom could just get her shit together or that his asshole older brother was actually the kind of fucking sibling he could count on, but neither one was the case, and he did himself no favors whining about the shit continuously. The only thing it seemed he could actually count on in life was the pleasure he felt in getting away from it all even if the highs were getting harder and harder to chase.

  
  


"Bradford, how's it hanging?" he chirped sweetly, almost sickeningly so, teasing his friend and clapped him on the back, hoping to shift gears in his head a little as they began their trek down the long hallway toward the side of the school that housed the art studio, shop class, and orchestra room, but he noticed the blond idiot's attention was again on Townley, and he wasn't sure why. 

  
  


He went to ask him about it, but before he could even think about it, Michael passed by the both of them, offering a little saucy smile to Trevor as he looked back over his shoulder, staring into his eyes, and oh my fuck, did it do shit to Trevor's insides, and what the fuck even was that?

  
  


They both stopped walking for a minute as Trevor blinked and shook his head, processing what the hell had even taken place that entire morning so far, like how the hell was it even possible, and...and -- and why the stupid hell was Brad looking at him like that?

  
  


The blond glowered at him, snorted and hocked, spitting right on the floor at Trevor's feet like it was a fucking dare, and that raised the rankles, irritating him slightly. "I didn't think you'd be another one. Don't fall into his fucking trap, Trevor." Brad started ahead of him, practically jogging toward the art room. 

  
  


It didn't take much to catch up to him because where Brad had a bit of a paunch on him from not watching how much fast food and beer was going down his throat on the weekends, Trevor was all lean muscle and probably a little underweight, if he were honest with himself. He could run laps around Brad. 

  
  


He grabbed the frantic blonde's wrist and twirled him around, glaring daggers at him. "What the fuck is your problem, Brad? You think I haven't noticed some weird shit between you and Michael? What the hell is the history between you two?" he yelled at his friend, aggravated with his weird-ass behavior. 

  
  


Brad ripped his wrist out of Trevor's hand and rubbed it, holding it against him, then looked up furiously into his eyes. "Townley is bad news, man. I know you don't want to hear that, but he is. He seems like one of those guys who gives a shit, wants to be your friend, wants to be the nice boyfriend when all he's really about is himself in the end. He only gives a shit about what he wants."

  
  


Some of what Brad was saying was hitting him in the fucking guts like a steel beam because this was shit he'd already been afraid of and questioning, himself. Because he was just that way. He didn't think he was deserving of huffing the same fucking air as everyone else breathed, much less as someone capable of being loved, so his mind always took those dark twisty paths when it was just him left to his own devices, but part of him also realized that a little of Brad's rant sounded awfully specific, and he began to laugh. "Goddamn, you act like a spurned bitch, Snider! Is that what this is??"

  
  


Brad sputtered a little. "O-of course not, you fucking dumbass!" Then he narrowed his eyes at Trevor. "Why don't you ask him about some of his afterschool activities? How he's allowed to fuck some chick's brains out in the parking lot during halftime last year, and no one bats an eyelash because he's an All-State quarterback! He's basically football royalty and gets away with whatever the fuck he wants." He stared at the ground. "He and his buddies treat people like shit, and no one cares, so why don't you ask him about that? I bet when he finds out about you, he won't wanna be your friend. I'm gonna be late for gym so you don't need me to hold your dick the rest of the way." 

  
  


The blonde turned away silently and took off the other direction, and Trevor didn't bother because, well, Brad had done what he'd set out to do all along: he'd planted a seed of doubt in Trevor's head. 

  
  


He headed into the studio that served as a classroom, usually one of his favorites of the day, and threw his shit onto his desk with a resounding thud. Next was his head, landing in the same manner. How had something so fucking wonderful turned into shit so fast? God, he fucking hated Brad right now, but what if he was right? Maybe he was just looking out for him. 

  
  


Fuck...afterschool activities. He'd wanted to meet afterschool. Goddammit. Was it a set-up situation? Was this just another quickie and gone? He...wasn't opposed to that, had done it so many times to numb the pain of loneliness, but he'd thought that this was different, had hoped it was so different because it felt that way this morning. Michael had held his back so protectively and later his hand so gently. He hadn't had to do any of that for a quick lay. Dammit, he was so fucking confused now. 

  
  


He groaned dejectedly. Fucking thanks, Brad, you fuck.

  
  


The instructor entered the room; a pretty sandy-haired woman in her mid-twenties named Miss George who looked like she'd missed out on the hippie era movement and dressed like she was making up for it, but she was alright as far as people went and didn't go out of her way to be a pain in the ass towards him, and she encouraged a lot of his work. This morning, she noticed his sullen mood and placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. "Something harshing your vibe?"

  
  


He groaned in irritation this time, not in the mood. "Just off to a weird morning. I need something to take my mind off this shhheerr-crap," he caught himself at the end. That's all he needed was to add a trip to the principal's office...wait, maybe he just needed a walk. Maybe that would help clear his head of useless bullshit. "Do you have any errands that need running? I need to talk a walk for a bit."

  
  


She seemed lost in thought for a minute before her eyes lit up, and she nodded before moving to her desk to root through her drawers for paperwork. "Actually, I do have some stuff that needs to go to the office if you don't mind. That would help me out so much." She smiled brightly as she handed him the papers. 

  
  


He took them with a nod. "Thanks, Miss George. You're a real lifesaver."

  
  


Her airy giggles followed after him, but he paid them no mind as he wandered the hallway, thinking about everything Brad had said, but his mind just kept going back to what Michael and he had done in the bathroom and then with the lights off. The little things like that, those ways Michael had made him feel like the most precious gift in the world just for a few measly minutes. He hadn't even needed to be high to feel the rush of that same feeling, and he found himself wanting to chase it, not even caring if Michael was bad for him because he was _always_ chasing after things that were, but this didn't feel like that.

  
  


Though of course, he was kind of always telling himself that the next big thing felt different too...and how had those ended up? But did he give two shits? Of course not.

  
  


Voices grew louder and louder, and there were cheers along with some yelling as he neared the gym which was next to the office. He sighed and slowed down, noticing a volleyball game going on. Thought that he saw Brad out of the corner of his eye, so he decided to run the errands in and then do a bit of spectating from the open double doorways. He didn't think anyone would give a damn if he watched his friend compete while he wondered if his friend was even still his goddamn friend. 

  
  


But when he got to the doorway, it wasn't just Brad he saw.

  
  


It was Michael approaching a ball, setting himself up to spike it, sweating pour from him everywhere, and a tuft of his shirt was clumsily pulled from his sweats, showing just a touch of skin. Trevor stood entranced by the way he shouted out firmly, "Mine!" and hit the ball with such force...and oh Christ. Why was he still standing there?

  
  


_Yours...yes, please make me yours just like that. I don't care what Brad says._

  
  


As if Brad could read minds, he saw Trevor standing there and looked a bit confused but waved at him. He started to wave back, but his eye caught Michael's, and it was too much. He darted back out and leaned against the wall, panting crazily. God, he wasn't sure if he wanted this day to be over or if he never wanted it to end. 

  
  
  


_M'aimes-tu Michel, ou est-ce que tu joues juste avec mon coeur? (Do you love me, Michael, or are you just playing with my heart?")_


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (mourn3d) this is easily my favorite chapter :D (so far, at least) Please welcome to the stage Angry Michael Townley and Emotional Trevor Philips!

Michael stared at him with a new kind of surprise. He smiled softly. This guy was addicting to him. He watched him and turned his attention back to the task at hand which happened to be the game, but this time he felt out of control and disconnected. The edges of his brain felt fuzzy as he focused in on where the ball was. But he turned his attention to Brad, who was on his side of the net, so he had to work along with him. He cursed when he saw the ball fly over and went over, he hurried over to bat it away and looked at Brad with a glare. It wasn’t like he was jealous of the guy. He just didn’t like him anyways, no matter Trevor. 

  
  


“What the hell, Snider?” Michael hissed at him, hurriedly wiping sweat off of his brow before hurrying over to hit the ball back once again, he turned to look back for Trevor and smiled when he could see him still looking over, trying his best to show off, his eyes still on Trevor as he winked, then moved and put his attention to the net, but it was too late. 

  
  


In a fuzzy realization, Michael was thrown back by the force of being hit in the face with a volleyball. He fell to the group and gasped thickly, blood rushing down his nose as he heard shouts and a whistle being blown. He groaned and felt at his nose, holding onto it as he felt the blood quickly cover his palm. 

  
  


He was eventually sat up, two of his boys helping him stand, the teacher telling him to go to the nurses office. He sighed and headed out, a pain in the back of his head. One of the guys tried to help but he shook them off. Praying to god Trevor was still there in the hall. He headed up to him and grunted softly as he held the back of his head and pressed a cloth he got from his teacher to his nose. “Uh...hey. Want to...come?” he asked, looking down at the ground with a deep sigh. His head was killing him. 

  
  


He headed for the stairs to head to the office, his head pounding in his ears. 

  
  


“Michael, you need to hold onto me, or something?” Trevor asked slowly, worry spreading across his face as he tried to reach and hold Michael’s arm, who slowly let in and leaned on him carefully. Trevor watched him with soft eyes, shaking his head a tiny bit and trying to help him. The pair made it to the nurses office and Trevor went in when Michael didn’t let go of his arm. His nose was checked and he thankfully hadn’t broken it. His nose was wrapped and the blood was washed off and Michael was on his merry way. 

  
  


Michael remained quiet as they got out. A fire burning in his eyes as they walked. “I swear, if the teammates knew how to fucking play then this wouldn’t have happened.” He huffed, looking at Trevor. “You were watching. Did you see them try to do that to me? Assholes.” he groaned and parted his hair back and pushed it back, his hands shaking with anger. “Fucking Snider should pay attention-”

  
  


The truth was he was too busy staring at Trevor to realize what was going on, but it didn’t really matter. He was upset with a bloody nose. 

  
  


“You shouldn’t have seen that.” Michael muttered finally, his hand finding a way to Trevor’s side, looking around as they walked through the long way back to the gym. “I bet I look like an idiot out there tripping over myself for just a glimpse of you.” His whole mood changed. He was back to flirty Michael. Thankfully back to Michael, at least for Trevor. “What class do you have? I’ll walk you.”

  
  


Staring down at the tile as if Trevor hoped it would open up and swallow him inside, he uttered, "Art." It was bad enough that he didn't know exactly how to process that Michael had just admitted to trying to creep on him; he was stuck halfway between  _ why me, holy fuck _ and  _ fuck yes, would you like me to remove anything _ . He was also left with this whole obvious whatever the fuck it was thing that had happened between Michael and Brad at some point in history prior to his arrival, and he wasn't sure how to broach the subject with either one now, especially after Snider's spectacular performance. If that's how Brad acted, how the fuck would Michael react? It was painfully noticeable watching them in the gym that there was no love there, and again, Michael said  _ Snider _ with such contempt as if Brad had raped his entire family and then gutted them. So how the hell was he supposed to take that?

  
  


Plus, it was art class. He didn't doodle or do impressive caricatures like other guys, didn't design shit like architecture or graphics...no, he liked to sketch and paint people, found them fascinating especially when they helped him create such expressive, emotional pieces. His mother had also taught him how to sew when he was nine, and he liked making his own shit, but he'd go to the fucking grave before admitting to anyone how much he fucking adored Vivienne Westwood fashion. 

  
  


He hadn't even liked admitting to Brad that he was taking art willingly, so he had pretended it was an elective he'd been saddled with because everything else was filled, and Brad had just nodded sympathetically as if he'd understood the universal code of _ this is how the school fucked me over _ . He'd never asked Trevor another question about it.

  
  


While he waited for the associated ribbing from someone whose pastimes included typical American sports, Michael just nodded. "I know where the art room is, c'mon." He grabbed Trevor's wrist, and an odd look spread over his face, like he'd touched something unexpected. His nose wrinkled slightly in confusion. 

  
  


Trevor wanted to definitely fucking be thrust into that damn hole right about now. He saw the look. This is where it all fucking ended. He  _ knew _ it was coming, just _ knew  _ it. Maybe Brad had been right after all in trying to warn him. Maybe Townley was just fucking around, maybe this was all a game...oh fuck, he could feel himself hyperventilating over this shit, _ why did he wear the black jellies today, goddamn?  _ He snatched his hand back. "Look, I don't need to be fucking babied or--"

  
  


But Michael gripped him again, harder this time, and pulled the sleeve of his jacket up just enough to eye the little gel bracelets, admiring them. "Oh, I thought that's what that was," he replied softly and then fingered them a bit teasingly, adding, "very cute." 

He gazed warmly at Trevor, and oh damn, he didn't know what the fuck to do. He was used to being the slick fucker in these situations, but he could see maybe why Michael had a reputation as a panty peeler, maybe, because goddamn, Michael was definitely doing things to him, and all he had to do was just fucking look at him. 

  
  


"You, uh," he stumbled nervously, trying to figure out something to say in return but settled on the truth, "you don't want to laugh at me?"

  
  


Michael used the one hand he had free to halfway shrug and then pulled Trevor toward their destination. "Why the hell would I do that?

  
  


_ Because others do? _ That's what he wanted to scream, but instead he chose something that had been bugging him earlier and was needling him still. He didn't think he could get through the rest of the day if he was stuck thinking about some of Brad's words. "Uh, so I don't know what the fuck is going on between you and Brad," Michael turned and looked at him as if he had grown a third head, and he knew he didn't like  _ that _ at all, "and I really don't fucking care what happened there, but he said some shit that is bugging me, and uh...um...shit." He glanced around as they walked, realizing they were already past the shop class, so he didn't have much time, and he didn't think he'd ever been so fucking nervous about something in all of his life. Why the fuck did this guy fuck him up like this so badly?? "I don't know how to say this."

  
  


"Just spit it out," Michael groused a bit, stopping them just short of the studio door. Trevor felt himself being pushed against the wall with Michael leaning one arm over him so that he was being towered over, and Michael's eyes were pools of deep blue as they searched his. "What did that stupid fuck say?"

  
  


Trevor wanted to be pissed. Oh God did he want to go the fuck off, but he couldn't. He was stuck in those fucking eyes, drowning in them, and so he swallowed his nerves and answered, "He mentioned your reputation, OK? H-he said that you do this afterschool shit with everyone...that...." He cast his eyes toward the floor then, feeling miserable, hating himself which wasn't an unknown feeling for him unfortunately, but he didn't think he'd feel it this suddenly. "He said that I'm no one special."

  
  


Michael’s eyes burned with fury, pulling his arm away and stepping back. Full of rage now that he understood what this was about. That stupid fuck already passed the line. Michael was already planning on how to murder Brad in several different ways in his mind. That was none of Snider’s business to tell. Especially since the person he told was the one Michael was meeting after school today. 

  
  


“He said that to you?” He snarled, the blue in his eyes flaring like waves crashing around in the ocean. “That stupid fucking-  _ okay _ ...okay.” He sighed and leaned against the wall beside Trevor, looking up at him. 

  
  


“Trevor, yes, okay, I did. Alright? I’ve been with a couple girls. I won’t lie to you. But that means nothing to  _ this _ .” He gestured between them. “We are something different, yeah? This isn’t your regular fuck on the side kind of thing, or at least, I guess I think so.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “They were just...girls. Girls that looked at me, cheerleaders, any of them.” He turned his gaze to the trophy case in that same hall. Staring at the picture of him and the team. The trophies they won….he won…

  
  


“None of them were like you. They didn’t have this connection like I feel with you. Brad has no fucking right to tell you things that...don’t even matter. Alright? We can talk more after school, though. Okay?” He looked at him, gently moving and pushing his chin up so their eyes could meet. 

  
  


“Okay.” Trevor said slowly. Still skeptical of Michael. He wasn’t sure if this was the truth or just the hormones talking, he hoped it was true. He hoped he wouldn’t be left in the dust again. 

  
  


Michael nodded and carefully pressed their lips together, then broke away and hurried down the hall back towards his class, as he got in everybody had already cleaned up the blood and the volleyballs placed back in the baskets. Everybody split into their respected locker rooms. He headed into the room, brushing past some of the guys in the front and going straight for Brad. The fury that had been slightly quenched by the emotion he dripped out of his mouth for Trevor was in full flame once again as it was whenever Trevor told him what Brad had told him.   
  


“How did the nose go, Townley? Shelly work her magic hands on you?” Brad taunted. Not paying attention to him.

  
  


Michael’s hands forcefully clenched his bag, slamming it into the locker across from him and then grabbed his shirt collar, shoving him against the locker and holding him there as his heart rate sped up, the adrenaline rush giving him much more strength to pin Brad back. 

  
  


“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Brad shouted as two of the boys headed to cover for Michael at the door, almost on instinct, and some of them blinked in horror at the sight of Michael absolutely loosing his shit. “Get the fuck off me, Townley!” Brad snarled in his face. 

  
  


_ ”You talk about me behind my back again and your gonna be swallowing your fucking teeth next time!” _ Michael hissed in his face. “Keep your fat mouth shut Snider, or I swear to god I can wire it shut for you!” He slammed him against the locker, then pulled off of him and gestured for him to leave angrily. “Get the fuck out of my face.” he snarled at him and watched him scramble to get his things and leave the room with a red hot face of anger. Michael watched him go and cut off a kid that attempted to ask if he was okay. “You too. Get the hell out of here.” he jerked a thumb behind his shoulder and scoffed at them all.

  
  


_ ”What are you staring at?!”  _

  
  


They all quickly turned their heads and went about their own business getting back into regular school clothes and Michael did the same, looking into his locker at the chain that dangled off of one of the hooks. He glanced around before slipping it on over his head and tucked it under his shirt, closing the locker and grabbing his bag. He moved out and glared at anybody that even dared to look at him in these moments because he really looked like he would rip anybody's face off at this point in time. 

  
  


The bell rang and he went to get to his fourth period, his hands shoved in his pockets and his anger still boiling inside of him. His jaw was clenched, eyes still burning with anger that was starting to tone down with the carefully relaxing heartbeat in his chest. He walked into his next class, his math class, and sat down in the back row of the classroom. He slumped back and stared at the ceiling, swearing he had never been this angry before in his life. He knew for a fact he had a bad temper, always knew. His parents knew too. Ever since he was a little kid he got upset and yelled at the slightest things, but everything in his mind was telling him he was the right one in this situation. 

  
  


_ And he was. He knew it. _

  
  


Fuck Brad for talking about him like that behind his back. He wanted to beat the shit out of him, but he didn’t need that kind of problem when they had that big game coming up Friday. He tried to focus on calming down, and eventually did because he knew that he would be able to have a lunch period soon, giving him time to go outside and calm himself down. It was cold, but it was good to sooth his boiling hot body. He craved the feeling even half an hour beforehand. 

  
  


He heard some chatter and looked up at the door, oh….that’s right. He caught sight of Brad stepping in, clearly still upset with the entire fiasco going on between them. Michael glared and knew he had to get the fuck out of that classroom before he exploded and broke Brad’s jaw. He stood up, grabbing his things and heading out quickly as the teacher softly protested by saying his last name. He ignored her and walked out, heading down to take a seat in the lobby and cool himself down, but his feet carried him the wrong way, instead straight back to the gym. He swore and slowly sat down in the bleachers, looking over the empty gym as the coach waited for the students to get dressed and come out.

  
  


Fingers pressed gently to his lips as if trying to soak up every reminder that Michael had previously been there, Trevor was left watching Michael run off in the opposite direction. He still didn't feel much better about his situation, but he didn't feel any worse. He certainly couldn't raise hell over a few girls that came before him because he'd been with quite a number of people who hadn't given a shit about him while he was searching for some sort of connection, but the more he thought about it, the more he hoped that he had more to offer than just a passing attraction for the football star. He didn't want this one to end like the rest. Michael had said it was different, and that's all he had to go on...he had to trust him.

  
  


Jesus, trusting  _ anyone _ was a fucking scary notion. He just barely placed any in his mom, and it was with the kind of love a child saves for their parents simply because they are their parents even if they are no better than scum. But this? It was something else entirely. 

  
  


He couldn't explain it. He  _ wanted _ to trust this guy simply  _ because _ . There was just this feeling deep within him that it was OK, that Michael was OK, and he couldn't understand why. It wasn't the kisses, the soft touches, or even the mind-blowing shit that had taken place in the bathroom -- although that definitely was still haunting his thoughts, Christ. No, it went beyond that to some sort of deeper feeling that they both shared something similar that no one else could hope to understand. 

  
  


A light touch at his shoulder roused him from his thoughts, startling him back to reality. Behind him was his art teacher's inquisitive face staring into his. "Are you OK? I was coming to check on you, but I found you out here looking down the hallway."

  
  


Shaking his head to assure her that he was fine, he smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Eh, I got asked to take a friend to the nurse's office from the gym, and I got sort of lost. Sorry."

  
  


She grinned brightly back at him, bouncing on her heels a bit. "Don't worry about it!" she giggled, brushing it off, and moved back toward the studio a few feet before spinning around on him again. "It's a freeform day, your choice of medium," she informed him and then whispered conspiratorially, "but the oils are getting used up so you better make a break for it." Her laughter carried throughout the air again, following her as she checked on his classmates' progress. 

  
  


He paused in thought, dwelling on what he wanted to put to canvas, and the only thing that filled his head was the blue of Michael's irises and how he'd felt when he was lost within them, how it had been like an ocean putting out a flame, and then when an idea arose, he made a beeline for an easel, canvas, and then the oils, placing a dollop from each of the Gamblin tubes on his palette in order to achieve the effect he desired. Then grabbing a different array of brushes and some thinner along with a rag, he threw that all down on his workstation before putting on a smock and hovered around the canvas a few more minutes, glowering at it as if he expected what he saw in his mind's eye to just come onto the material by pure magic. After a bit though, he shook his head, annoyed with himself, and dabbed his brush in the paint thinner before pulling the tiniest bit of the phthalo green into some of the ultramarine blue, going to work.

  
  


Art was always a process of emotions to him. He couldn't work unless inspired, but once he was, he worked with the vigor of a serial killer sliding into madness, and he guessed it was something of a marvel to behold with the way people always stopped to stare and crowd him, as what was currently happening again. He worked steadily, thinking of how easily Michael had held him, how safe he had been in his arms, how strong they had felt, and it wasn't as if Trevor was some sort of punk-ass weakling, but he _ liked _ that feeling. He was used to having to fend for himself so often, to fight his own fights or to sometimes fight other's battles for them depending on the person and the connection, but this was something else having someone else do it for him. It was...a relief to let someone else take care of him for once. 

  
  


Bitterness filled him, eating into his painting. Colors switched. The alizarin crimson and yellow ochre worked their way onto the canvas as his mood changed, and he thought about how much he must've missed in his life, how fucked up he must be, how  _ goddamn lonely _ it'd been if this is what it's like to have someone else care for him, to genuinely show an ounce of emotion that wasn't conditional. It lit a fire right up his asshole thinking about his family, both miserable kin and foster alike, and how he'd been treated just for having the audacity to walk on the same dirt as them. It grew and grew until he felt it almost become an overwhelming force, and he wanted to tear the canvas apart, but when he saw the blue waters he had painted, he remembered those beautiful calming eyes. His heartbeat, previously deafening in his ears, began to slow back down to a more comfortable pace, and he sighed. Michael had soothed him again, and he wasn't even there. 

  
  


One of his male classmates whistled lowly from one side of him, and a female peer tapped him on the shoulder, politely asking him, "What do you call it?"

  
  


What  _ did _ he call it? He hadn't even given it an honest look yet. He shrugged and humbly admired it while everyone started to clean up and gather their things for lunch period. 

  
  


The top half was a cloud of raging fire, winding and storming into the ocean below whose huge tumultuous, crashing waves reached up to lick the flames and cool them.

  
  


Never had he done something with so much sentiment before. He could feel that fire within him, but he could feel the ocean not far behind, waiting to reach out and just touch him. He was having a hard time catching his breath suddenly. 

  
  


Miss George came up beside him and patted his back. "Are you sure you're OK, today?" He nodded and gave her the thumbs-up sign. "OK then, you'd better get cleaned up." As he did just that, he caught her staring at his painting, looking at it the way a professional would critique one in a gallery or museum; definitely not the way a teacher would cast off a high school student with no talent. She smirked to herself. "I know you have to have a name for something this meaningful."

  
  


Did he? Maybe he did. Maybe it had been on his mind since he'd started it. "It's 'Where Fire Met Water.' That's the name of it."

  
  


"So who is she?" Miss George smiled at him. 

He laughed awkwardly and picked up his things as he darted around her to get out of the studio, away from questions he didn't want to answer.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Letting his hand slide backward to grip as much ass as he could in his hand, he felt the heat there, and it almost seemed as if he could also feel Michael’s heart racing there too. A set of wild but needy blue eyes watched him curiously, and he was honestly surprised that Michael didn’t yell at him to stop. 
> 
> Maybe there was more to him than originally thought. He liked the thought of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're baccckkk!! With Chapter SIX! That is insane that we have that many chapters pumped out already. Hope you guys like this chapter!

Michael hadn’t left the gym to go back to class. His eyes remained on the students who were working on their game during their gym class. His eyes wandered down to their shoes, some had the privilege of having nice running shoes, those who could easily maneuver through anything the other players threw at them. They could move themselves flawlessly and catch any kind of movements their body made. Then there were the other kids, the ones whose laces weren't tied, where their feet stumbled and tripped as they tried to keep up with the others. It was like a weird show for Michael to watch, watching them play. He was entranced by it. 

His mind wandered to Trevor in those moments, with a deep regrettable sigh he let it wander there. He was curious about Trevor, wondered how he would be with Michael on the sidelines like the gym teacher was. Was he going to be careful, have his laces tied and able to maneuver through the obstacles in his path, or was he there tripping over himself, hitting the ground or missing the ball that went flying over into his side of the net. He wanted to be there with Trevor, wanted to help and guide him, but everything else in his mind was screaming at him. 

_No. You're Michael Townley. You don't get attached. You break them and leave, you've always been a heart breaker, Michael, don't let this one change you._

Everything was pointing to Trevor being different. To him being there more than any of those girls could ever dream being. Michael could imagine himself at that beautiful Canadian's side, sinking his lips into his and diving into those smooth hips with the most satisfied groan. His eyes rolled back on himself just thinking about the thought of that, of holding Trevor up and giving him everything he had with the sweat of the workout he did prior to fucking him senseless. He wanted to force himself into him and give him everything he deserved.

Then his eyes snapped open and went back to the game that was taking place, his heart racing for any kind of sign that he would calm himself down. 

He thought about his parents' faces. They gave him everything he ever wanted or needed in life, he could never hate them for that. Of course not. He'd be a monster for even thinking of that. But then again there was this thought in the back of his mind. What would anybody say at the sight of him and Trevor together, what if that teacher caught them after he had got Trevor to come in the bathroom. What would his father look like? 

_Mary, forgive me._ He thought to himself as he stood there entranced by his thoughts, a blank look spreading across his face as he sat there and fiddled with the edge of his shirt. He thought about Mass on Sunday. How Father Johnson would look after he confessed his sins and thoughts on another man. How badly he just wanted to get lost in the comforting eyes of that heart-stoppingly beautiful Canadian. He wanted to get lost with him. He would run and never look back if Trevor just said the words. He would surely be sent straight to hell on the spot for even _thinking_ that. 

He watched the kids pack up and let out a little disappointing sigh as he got up himself and headed for the cafeteria. Stopping for a moment to glance in the general direction of the art room, trying to figure out whether or not he should visit and try to get him to come with him for lunch instead of sticking around in that disgusting cafeteria. A quick answer popped into his brain and he took a hard right to head down the hall to find Trevor, a little overly excited with the thought of being able to spend more time with him than he previously was going to. But his mind would simply not get off of him.  
  
As he headed over he noticed the back of the man and hurried himself over to grab his wrist, but stopped short at the voice of a very familiar student, and he stopped quickly, Noticing the head of Brad beside him. He was instantly fuming at the sight of them together. He backed up, then headed away, though felt the eyes of both of them on his back. He needed to get out of that school for this period. He needed to get far away before he ended his career altogether. That bastard was going to ruin his time with Trevor quickly if he didn't get off his back. 

Instead of going to eat, he went down to his locker and opened it, putting his things in there and huffing out impatiently, slamming it closed, and heading back to the gym. Staring at the ground to anchor his anger and try his best to not lash out at this moment. He was a raging fire right now, anybody coming too close would be threatened. He couldn’t control his temper. It was the biggest flaw that most of his teammates had to shield from the public eye. The coach knew and warned him that if it got too out of hand he would have no other choice but to kick him off the team. 

He headed through the gym to a back room, pulling out his keys and taking the key that the coach gave him specifically for one of these moments. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Walking in and flicking on the lights. Staring at the equipment as he closed the door and closed the blinds over the window on the door and sat down, he headed over to the set of dumbbells and got to work instantly, curling them with a red face as he tried to just work out his frustration. 

He knew that he would get kicked off, but yet, he was sure if Brad threatened this relationship too much he would have no choice but to put him in his place. That fucker better learn it quickly before he got himself hurt. Michael was ready for it, though. No matter how badly he wanted to stay on the team. He would be down to teach an idiot a lesson.

Trevor blew a staggering anxious breath out to steady himself and started down the hallway in the direction toward his locker. His stomach rumbled obnoxiously, reminding him it was there, but he didn't have a fucking coin to his name, having spent what he'd managed to save so far on some sketchbooks, pencils, weed, beer, a little coke -- anything he had been able to get his hands on in this town to help him cope with shit. And he was supposed to have had enough left over to carry him through for lunch still for a few weeks, he knew, but well, his mom had called with a sob story about not being able to find work in this new town yet, and she always knew how to tug at his heartstrings just right, so he had offered to help. The new foster parents didn't have to know. The less they knew, the better.

He couldn't help it. At times, he hated her, but she was the only mother life had given him, and in her own stupid fucking way, she loved him somehow, even if most of the time it seemed like all she loved about him was his ability to help her out of a jam with his ability to produce cash. 

In his mind, while she spun her tale about how life was grand, and how much she loved her baby boy, he had been in a pleasant dream, thinking of places where kids are loved by their parents, and life isn't filled with dysfunctional bullshit, but then she had opened her mouth and poured out the lies that had been resting there all along buried within the sweet honey of her words, and he wanted to fucking _HATE_ her so much, but...but he couldn't. How could he hate his own mother?

But oh did he want to as he remembered just why he was broke and starving in the middle of the fucking hallway at school. 

That was until Brad stomped a path toward him, anyway, and then he lost his forgot about it and lost his appetite. Dammit, he didn't know what crawled up his ass and died, but he didn't have the patience to deal with it right now. Not on an empty belly. 

"Trevor!!"  
  
He turned to look at him and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Brad looked akin to a rabid stuffed pig, foaming from his fleshy mouth. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked down at his shorter blond friend. "Yes, what's so important you needed to march over here and yell my name, princess?" 

Nothing got the short stack blowing his top quicker than to call him that. "Townley, that's what!" He shoved a threatening finger in Trevor's face and spat at him angrily, "You're either my friend or his! I hate that fucking sleazebag and don't want to see you get tangled up in his bullshit!" 

Brad was really a sight to behold, huffing and puffing with sweat beginning to bead on the skin of his reddening forehead. His blond short strands jiggled to and fro with every movement he made, and his seawater eyes were as wild as the incoming tides themselves. He was bent slightly with his hands on his knees from exerting himself. Something about the whole thing between him and Michael was just bugging Trevor again, so it was definitely time to bring out that file from _Shit To Ask About Later_. He'd had enough. "What the fuck _is_ it with you and Townley, anyway?" He began walking toward his locker, noticing Brad tagging along behind him. "Was he a bad lay once? I don't get it."

He'd meant it purely as a joke, of course, but Brad slammed his hand against the locker next to his, startling the ever-living hell out of him. Some of his books fell to the floor, and he bent to the floor to pick them up as Brad yammered on above him. "You just don't _get_ it, Trevor. I told you he's bad news. He doesn't give a fuck about anyone except himself." Then he muttered lowly just so the both of them could hear, "Do you _really_ think he's going to want to fuck around with you after he finds out about your mom?"  
  
Nobody -- _NO FUCKING BODY_ \-- not even new friends were supposed to be ballsy enough to dare to mention his fucking mother. He quickly yanked himself up and put his face in Brad's, glowering down at him viciously. "What. The. Fuck. About. My. _Mother_ ," he enunciated each word loudly, with conviction, almost spitting in Snider's face each time, but he couldn't find it within him to currently care. Mentioning his mother was crossing a line. Only he was allowed to bring her up. "Do you have a fucking problem with my mom?"

He had to give Brad credit. He actually looked as if he had some sense within him as he backed away, cowering just a tad. "N-no, man. I love your -- no, wait, I don't mean like _that_ , I just...I don't have a problem, OK??" He loved watching Snider squirm. He didn't care if that made him a shitty friend, but it was downright hilarious to watch. 

"Damn right you don't," he agreed as he finished putting his stuff away and closed his locker.

"What I'm saying is that Townley may not like what he sees. You ever stopped to think about that? You both are different worlds across the trailer park. It doesn't matter if you live on the same side of town in the same place. He's got a nicer double-wide while you and your mom--" He stopped short when he noticed the violent look in Trevor's eyes. "You know what I mean," he finished lamely, then his eyes lit up. "There's the asshole now."

Trevor felt his heart speed up, and all he wanted to do was get the fuck away from this conversation and go somewhere with Michael, but when he saw the dour expression on Michael's face as he turned in the opposite direction, his heart sank. 

"What the hell did I tell you?" Brad clamored eagerly, pulling on his jacket. "Grade A asshole there." He started to jerk Trevor along with him in the direction of the cafeteria. "C'mon, forget about that spaz."  
  
Trevor wrenched himself away. "I lost my appetite," he mumbled as he walked away from Brad, ignoring his yelling. He kept on walking. Away from Brad, Michael, everything. He found a big brass bell on a concrete stand, and that's where he sat, contemplating everything. 

What the fuck was everyone's problem?

He couldn't recall where he'd signed up for any of this bullshit, goddamn. He'd just wanted to get through a year without his mom fucking things up, him going to another foster home, and he wanted to go to school, do all of the mundane shit besides paint in peace. Maybe strum around on his guitar a bit. Scream a little. Fuck, was it all too much to ask??

Sighing, he went through every scenario in his head of why Michael would've turned around and walked in the opposite direction. Common sense told him that Michael had been coming to walk him to lunch or something, so it obviously had to do with Brad, and the more he thought about Brad, the more he disconcerted he became. He still wasn't any closer to understanding what their deal was, dammit. 

This was exactly why he hated being the new kid. 

Glancing up at the sky and being reminded of Michael again, he wondered if they were even still on for whatever was supposed to take place after school. Brad had probably managed to ruin whatever the fuck that was. His nose wrinkled in contempt. Not that he could blame Michael. Why would anyone want to bother with someone like him anyway? Brad wasn't wrong. He had fucking awful timing, but he wasn't full of shit. He knew, oh God he knew. 

The way he'd said _junkies_ earlier? The crowd he hung around? They were two different worlds. It didn't matter. 

It's not like he could ever invite him over to his foster house, his mom's trailer, or explain that his mom fucked guys for a living. Or that he had to steal here and there on the side to help his mom make ends meet. He was living in a pipe dream thinking he could ever have a normal life.

Michael was drifting away slowly into his own anger. The tidal waves in his stormy blue eyes overcame his irises, flames bursting through his insides and his skin becoming quickly hot and sweaty. He wanted to scream, he wanted to punch something and just let it all out. He needed a release somehow. As he curled the weights he felt hot, almost too hot. Like all of the air surrounding him was going straight for him, and caving him in. He was starting to lose control of himself and he needed to escape before he exploded completely. With a harsh sigh, he dropped the weights and headed out, shoving the keys in his pants and hurrying out, shoving open the door to the back exit and walking on the pavement towards a more secluded area at the school, the flames still strong in his eyes as he walked, staring at his feet and counting his steps to somewhat get a grounding of himself and calm down. 

He didn’t really notice the man sitting there just yet, instead, he was just staring at the ground, mentally he was anywhere else but there. Everything that was previously closing in on him was gone and although he still felt that fire in his insides. He took a seat on the concrete retaining wall that faced the small hill. He crossed his arms and stared at the backside of the school, the anger in him cooling down with the breeze of the chilly winter that North Yankton had to offer.   
  
His eyes drifted. Noticing the body near his, his eyes swept over the person, unsure of who it was. Usually, there wasn’t anybody else back here when he was, so he was curious. _Were they really trying to start something with him? Now?_ He stood up, a scowl on his face as he headed to confront the person who was invading his own personal hideaway, he paused quickly when he got in front of them, his eyes softening and the tenseness in his muscles instantly relaxing just at the sight. 

“Trevor,” he said softly, eyes locking with Trevor’s. He slowly sat down in front of him, eyes on his. The brightness and fury in his own being calmed just by the sight of the other man’s. “You shouldn’t be out here, where’s Brad?” he asked, reaching out slowly to touch his arm, but Trevor pulled off. 

“ _Brad_ is eating. I can’t handle either of you right now. In your fucking hissy fits against each other. What is your problem?” Trevor snapped at Michael, who leaned back and watched him with confused eyes. 

“My problem?”

_“Yes!”_  
  
“He’s an asshole who’s been talking behind my back for a decade, Trevor. He talked to you, didn’t he?” he sighed out impatiently. “I can’t stand him, haven’t been able to for years. He pisses me the fuck off.” he glared at the cloudy sky, “I don’t want you to see my temper, okay? Why don’t we just eat lunch together..” he looked at him, slowly getting up and carefully sitting next to him. “Alright?...are we okay?” he asked gently, placing a hand gently on his arm. 

They were nothing. Nothing but two kids that decided to make out in a bathroom and eyed each other during class. They couldn’t be anything. Michael was on the football team, he had a certain image to hold, he wanted to be there for and with Trevor, but he didn’t know how well he could. 

He noticed those eyes, though. Of course, he did. He saw them. He saw him when they first moved in, it wasn’t really a lot of attention that he gave- he didn’t know the kid- but he was interested in the new people in town. And thank _god_ he was so close. He was so thankful for that.

Frantically blowing his hair from his face, Trevor grabbed the muscles of his legs with such force, focusing on the pain because he had no other way to calm himself from the panic he was feeling right now. He didn't dare look at Michael's face, didn't want to get lost in his eyes again because he didn't trust himself or his feelings right now. He knew the other man had to be confused because he removed his hand from his arm, and that bothered him to no end. He missed the warmth it had left behind, and he found himself leaning toward the direction it now laid, next to its perplexed owner. 

"Trevor?" Michael called out hesitantly.

He stared at the ground. Each blade of grass was a safe spot, he could hide behind those. If only he could slip beneath the fucking dirt too. "We're...I...I don't know." Fuck it, he decided to brave the stormy seas, glaring right into them, daring them to give him just an inch, any excuse at all to show just who he could be when he was raw like this. "What are we really? Am I a quick fuck? I...I need to know," he started to ramble in a panic, clutching at his hair, feeling the overwhelming thoughts sweep over him again, threatening to burn him out. "If that's all it is, OK...OK, OK. I get it. I have that look, just like my...just like a fucking needy whore, I get it, but I just want to know ahead of time." Tears slipped through the surface even if he didn't ask them to. "I'm not like other fucking guys. I have goddamn feelings. I...I don't even know what the fuck you're doing talking to someone like me. Brad was right about me being no one special, OK?" he laughed bitterly, rubbing furiously at the streaks on his cheeks.  
  
Michael looked at him thoughtfully for a few minutes before grabbing Trevor's hand in his. "Look, for starters, I know Brad is your friend, and even if I hate the prick, I can't change that, I know. Just don't buy into his bullshit about me, OK? He's always had a hair up his ass about me." He smiled, and Trevor felt himself getting stuck in that same place he was earlier, wishing he could just pause time there forever and have that moment. Fuck knows he could be happy existing there because everything else in his life had been nothing but shit. "As far as you and me? I...I don't know, man. I just know I like you. You're different. But things are...well, they are. Let's just say, friends?"

Trevor smacked his lips unpleasantly. That had left a hollow taste in his mouth. He smirked up at Michael. "So friends who just happen to fuck around then?"

Michael stared back at him smugly with his arms crossed. Fuck him, how could he be so goddamn irritating and sexy at the same time, enigma that he was. It pissed Trevor off to no end. "Yeah, sure. I guess if you want to call it that."

There it was. What had he expected exactly? For Michael to be his Prince Charming? For him to be his fucking Homecoming Queen like some stupid fairy? He didn't know what planet he was living on. Shaking his head, he mused over the thoughts he'd once held when he was little, playing dress-up his mom's lingerie and heels, pretending he was some sort of princess out of a storybook while getting smacked around by his father for entertaining the very fucking idea of even doing such things before doing some fucking manly shit like shooting up harmless things in the woods or blowing up things with his older brother's endless knowledge of how to make homemade bombs.  
  
Had he really thought that one day things would be different for him if he just held out hope? He snorted to himself. A hometown football star and some wannabe artsy punk thief with a whore for a mother. Michael was going places, he was not. All they could ever be was fucking friends.

The sun was blaring in his eyes almost too brightly on what felt like such a gloomy day in his head. He shielded his eyes from it as he looked up, nodding. "Yeah, whatever you want, Mikey. I'll roll with it."

He watched in fascination as Michael's neck and shoulders did a sort of roll, and he found his eyes wouldn't leave his neck, how strong and flexible it appeared but how vulnerable it seemed at the same time too. His fingers itched along the concrete of the place he was sitting so he started drumming them, wondering idly what it would feel like to stroke that span of skin before grasping it and making the person beneath it his.

Panting roughly, he gazed back down at the dirt and gravel beneath his boots, kicking at it, praying for relief from the growing madness inside of him. He wanted Michael Townley so fucking badly now, like a habit he couldn't drop. If he could snort him or shoot him into his veins, he'd do it just to feel him inside of him and know he was there as a part of him for eternity, so he'd never be alone again. The fire was building up within him so much, he didn't know what to do to stop it. He just...wanted. 

And somewhere inside of him, he knew it was wrong, but he didn't care, didn't care, was beyond caring. Michael had awoken a sleeping beast in him in the bathroom, one that had rarely come up out of the water, but with Michael, he had not only burst through and gasped for air as if he'd never tasted it before, but he also didn't mind to drown in his waters if only to know the sweetness that was taking a breath afterward.   
  
He swallowed down his emotions as Michael grinned over at Trevor, placing his hand casually on Trevor’s thigh while also taking care to make sure that no one was watching. “I’m glad, Trev.” His hand crept slowly inward and upward.

Trevor looked down at the offensive appendage and decided that enough was enough. If all this was ever going to be was a couple of fun fucks, then he was going to show Michael a trick or two. 

Beaming widely as he rose to his full height over Michael, he loomed over him and ran a lazy hand between his legs. He didn’t give a fuck if they got caught because he didn’t have a reputation to lose, unlike the hapless quarterback. Letting his hand slide backward to grip as much ass as he could in his hand, he felt the heat there, and it almost seemed as if he could also feel Michael’s heart racing there too. A set of wild but needy blue eyes watched him curiously, and he was honestly surprised that Michael didn’t yell at him to stop. 

Maybe there was more to him than originally thought. He liked the thought of that. 

With the other hand, he stroked that fine neck he’d been admiring, and he heard it -- a slight whimper deep in Michael’s throat, but it was there, and goddamn if it didn’t sink straight to his dick. They stared at one another, him contemplating taking Michael’s chewed and swollen lip into his own to worry it with his own teeth, but a set of voices knocked them out of their trance, and they fumbled to sit back up as if nothing had been going on at all, that everything was _just_ normal. 

An askance view told him that it was anything but that.

He couldn’t get his mind off that fucking delicious whimper. Things were about to get interesting, Jesus _Christ._

Michael had been on the edge about any kind of sexual touches the entire day since he laid eyes on Trevor. But never in a million years did he expect that to happen. As if Trevor could so easily read his mind. Like he knew him. Knew what he did behind closed doors and away from anybody. 

When he felt those hands touch him in the perfect places his body reacted the exact opposite of how he had been previously controlling it. His hips slid back, pressing against that huge hand that met his ass. And god damn, that _hand_ on his _neck_. What was he trying to do to him?

His head tilted back slightly, though his gaze never left Trevor's, a rush filling his insides as he thought about the thing he had done to himself so many times before. He felt the fingers softly brush the skin and it was almost exactly like the things that he had imagined thousands and thousands of times before. He wasn't sure how well he was going to get through the day with Trevor knowing exactly how to treat him. 

Many times, he would imagine it. Two hands coming over his neck and closing his throat. He would picture the edges of his vision blurring as he was rutted into relentlessly and manically. He thought of how he would anchor himself to the man above him- he never really considered it to be Trevor, but sure, he thought of being with another man. A woman would never. She would never ever choke him, but oh god. Thinking of Trevor over top of him, Trevor _deep_ inside and showing no sign of letting up.  
  
He thought about the tears that would fall down his face as he gripped the strong arms that held Trevor's weight and kept his hands latched onto his throat. He thought about the rush of being near death if Trevor decided it was his time. He'd be too fucked out to resist. 

Fuck, if he didn't stop thinking about this he would be close. He groaned softly and leaned forward, holding his face in both of his hands and shifting his hips lightly. He knew for damn sure that this would be a kick for Trevor. He wasn't big on showing this softer side of him, but.....god. He wanted to get lost in his hands. He wanted to give himself up and allow him to just take him right there. Bury that beautiful dick inside of him and give Michael everything he was worth. 

_Stop, fucking stop, Michael. You're not supposed to think like this._

"You're driving me fucking mad, Trevor." he panted against his hands, turning his body towards him slowly and carefully picking the weight of his upper half back up so that he was sitting upright and looking at Trevor. His arm moved to cover the uncomfortably hard erection he now had as he nodded to the kids that passed them, He sucked in slightly and groaned out softly. “Jesus, I’m so fucking hard.” He murmured, voice deep and silky as he focused on trying to not let himself sink in and kiss the madman that sat right there in front of him. 

He wanted him right now. He fucking wanted those delicious lips on his, _he wanted those hands to come back_ , to grab and squeeze his ass, to close his throat and make him cry and beg to be let go. He wanted-....  
  
“God dammit. Come on,” he sighed roughly and got up. “Trevor, come on,” he said hurriedly, knowing for sure that they didn’t have a crazy long amount of time, but if they were careful they could spend it perfectly. 

He led him through the side entrance of the school, back through the back of the gym and into the weight lifting classroom. His heart pounded as he pulled him in and pressed his lips roughly to his, arms squeezing around his waist tightly to ground himself and not let himself fall into that subspace that he knew he could fall into. He pressed himself into Trevor, his hands meeting the neck of his shirt and pulling on it roughly, keeping him close to him as he tried his best to ignore the fact that Trevor had gotten him to that point where he had to prove to himself mentally that he wasn’t some kind of girl that keened to whatever a guy tried to do to get in her pants. 

He kissed him messily, his hands moving and slipping against his sides, for some reason, he shoved him back against the bench and swung a leg over his lap, settling himself there and messily kissing him, hands gripping and sliding for a moment until they settled on his front.

“Trevor-....I- I- can’t fucking wait for you,” he muttered shakily, his lips finding their way to press to the side of his neck as he rolled and rocked his hips to the touches of him. He didn’t want to leave. A quick twist of his hips sent shocks through his body, pure bliss hitting him and going straight to his dick. A soft moan was ripped from his throat as he moved. “I- I seriously have to get off, Trevor. I can’t not-” he groaned and grabbed onto him, his eyes screwing shut as he rut into him, not expecting Trevor to do anything but stay still and let him get himself off. Sweat was beginning to form against his neck and everything began to get so hot. He tried his best to just get it the fuck over with, he needed to get it over with, but he hadn’t even loosened his belt. He tried his best to not cry out, but felt hands grip onto Michael’s sides and still him. 

“You’re gonna make a damn mess, slow down,” Trevor muttered to him. 

Michael let out a soft sob when the high was quickly taken away from him, the electricity in his veins fading away as Trevor held him still. 

“Trevor, please…” 

“Hush.” He muttered, moving and undoing his belt. Michael’s hands shaking as he rubbed against him roughly now that Trevor’s hands had moved to undo the belt and get those pants down.   
  
“Please...fuck…” Michael tried to not sob to him, ducking his head down and pressing his face against his shoulder, inhaling thickly. His teeth softly dragging into Trevor’s neck as he gave up trying to be strong and try to take over. He held onto him, whimpering as he rutted against him and pressed hard into him. 

“Trevor….baby- _Trevor_...” he whimpered. He needed to touch him, his fingers fumbled dumbly to hold onto his hair. Sweat slicked his forehead, sobbing softly for any touch that he could get from Trevor, any kind of affection, anything. His mind was racing for some way to be able to shift the gears, to excite Trevor, through his blurry mind he thought of the one thing that seemed to excite them both. 

_“Choke me.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, so...we are assholes. We know. The charm of getting us together in a combo deal for a fic, I guess. Be patient readers. Some...interesting scenes have yet to come. <3


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -He wanted to leave something behind showing all of these pretentious assholes that, yes, some stupid fucking screwed up nobody had damaged and owned their precious little quarterback, and yes, Michael Townley begged for him as no one had ever begged. 
> 
> What kind of person did that make him?
> 
> "Yes, I'm sure," Michael called out weakly, nodding to him. "Please...Trevor, I need...I need--"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Honestly couldn’t hold back after talking with a friend about the ending of six, so here is possibly the quickest update to this work ever. Enjoy!

Those two words resonated throughout Trevor's head like the acoustic blast his father's 9mm had left when he'd found it and tested it out several summers before. They bounced around pleasantly like kids jumping on an old trampoline at a carnival on a warm autumn night, and his fingers flexed involuntarily on either side of him as he watched Michael's throat swallow heavily a few times, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with each movement. Michael's excitement was so palpable, he could taste it in the air and feel it coat his skin. 

"Do you know what the fuck you're asking, Michael?" he whispered hotly. "I...I know I don't look like much, but I...I don't want to hurt you." He formed a tight fist and held it in front of Michael's eyes for effect. "I can leave marks with these."

Part of him was sad to admit that, but another part of him was just as exhilarated to say the words out loud and begged whatever gods were listening that Michael wouldn't back out. He _wanted_ to leave red streaks on that pretty, unmarred skin. He wanted to leave something behind showing all of these pretentious assholes that, yes, some stupid fucking screwed up nobody had damaged and owned their precious little quarterback, and yes, Michael Townley begged for him as no one had ever begged. 

What kind of person did that make him?

"Yes, I'm sure," Michael called out weakly, nodding to him. "Please...Trevor, I need... _I need_ \--"  
  
Trevor clucked his tongue condescendingly, moving his gaze to get an eyeful of what he knew Townley had been packing under those acid wash Levis. As he marveled over the fact that Michael barely fit in his fist -- and oh God, that was going to fucking hurt like delicious hell at some point -- as he chided him gently, "You're a bit needy, aren't you, Mikey?" Blue eyes gaped back at him, shining with tears, afraid to say a word, and Trevor chuckled at him. "There's nothing wrong with being needy. I _like_ you that way. Now, where were we?" He gave an experimental tug and the mewls that came from Michael's mouth along with the way his hands gripped the sides of the bench were stuff his dreams were made from, goddamn. The hand that wasn't occupied wandered up toward that beautiful expanse of flesh screaming out for him to render it into bliss, and as he pressed his fingers forward into it, jamming downward into the larynx slightly while watching Michael's eyes carefully, the set of ocean eyes regarding him heatedly dilated, and the face belonging to them nodded quickly, giving silent permission for him to do more, to go further. 

He had to get into a certain mindset to use the kind of strength that Michael desired, so he thought about his shitty life, his brother's mindless bullshit, the first guy he'd thought he'd been in love with who'd only used him as a quick fuck in the back of a Nova before kicking his then half-naked twelve-year-old ass out onto the cold curb before peeling out, everyone who'd ever beaten him from his father to the last stepfather, his ma who couldn't and wouldn't stay sober long enough to help herself, much less him, Brad's almost jealous-style fit...and he saved the best for last: they'd never be able to have anything like what he wanted as long as he was who he was and Michael was light-years away.  
  
"Ah _f-f-fuck_ ," Michael coughed and gagged, rustling beneath his ministrations. "T-that...yeah."

Still in the throes of his angry thoughts, Trevor's eyes flashed wildly at Michael. "You're talking entirely too goddamn much for someone who wants this, so hold on." He stopped his lazy stroking of Michael's cock and yanked his own mangled jeans and jacket off, dumping them unceremoniously on the floor next to the bench. Fear of judgmental looks about the scars of past abuses kept him from removing his Bauhaus band tee, but Michael only stared silently as Trevor climbed over him and positioned his ass against the throbbing erection that was begging to be helped. Then he moved both hands around Michael's neck and squeezed until the both of them were purple in the face. 

Noticing blue eyes rolling backward, he stopped suddenly. Jesus, had he fucking killed him?? Smacking Michael in the face in a bit of a panic, he watched as the other guy came to in a daze with a strange smile on his face. 

"Fuck me, baby, please," Michael weakly croaked and pulled him towards him for a long soul-sucking kiss.

Trevor wasn't one to refuse under normal circumstances, but...he felt goddamned overwhelmed by everything that was going so fucking fast, it was topsy-turvy, and he couldn't catch his breath. 

But maybe that was what made Michael so appealing. He didn't give him time to reflect on the bad shit in life. There was only time for the fun, and fuck knows he wanted so desperately to grab that and never let go. 

Huffing and puffing with sweat dripping from his face onto Michael's belly, he wondered aloud, "No one will come in here? I can't afford trouble again, Mikey. I...I'm not some beloved hometown hero with a long line of trophies and cheerleaders trying to suck his dick, in case you hadn't noticed."  
  
Townley closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm one of few with a key to this room, and no one else will be here till last period." He fidgeted and sighed. "We've got to get a move on though because lunch will be over soon."

Blowing chestnut strands from his eyes slowly, Trevor tried to steady his frantically beating heart as he shimmied down past Michael’s hips and re-positioned himself where he was needed, but it left a weirdness blooming in his chest because he was used to being the one on the receiving end with guys. Hovering over Mikey, he could feel a different kind of passion in it, a shifting of power, as he spat in his palm a few times and soaked his tip thoroughly hoping that would be enough, but considering the kind of pain the guy quivering beneath him seemed to be into, he didn’t think he had much to worry about as he pushed forward into heavenly tightness while wrapping his slickened hands back around his starving neck, readying himself to crush him again.

Michael was the most beautiful thing that had ever been gifted to him. If only he could paint him like this. 

He focused his eyes and then shut them in concentration, intending to catalog the memory into his brain, and then began to move slowly into this work of art.

Michael never wanted to be a part of something off of this Earth. He wanted to stay grounded his entire life, it was safe, he had everything on the surface. Friends, fans, family, anything he could ask for was there on the ground with him in that city of North Yankton. But as he was lying there, taking everything he begged Trevor to do, he could have sworn he was about to lose himself. 

He was floating now, far away from his beloved home. The edges of his senses demolished, giving up for the pain that he was feeling from the other boy above him. His mouth opened, but with his airway being completely shut off, he made no noises, his legs shaking slightly at the pressure of Trevor entering him. He slid his legs carefully and clumsily around his back as he let out a shout behind those hands that were wrapped so beautifully around his throat. 

It burned so beautifully. His vision was far too cloudy to try to meet the eyes of those hungry amber ones above him. He felt tears slip down his face and clenched his eyes tightly together as he felt a slow and lazy thrust, and _god_ did it hurt. 

Trevor leaned down and got into Michael’s face, breathing heavily as he let go to give him a chance to breathe. Michael’s eyes instantly opened, as if just removing the hands landed him back on the Earth. 

“You wanted this, didn’t you _Mikey_?” Trevor snarled into his face, moving to slap him yet again, Michael turned his attention back to him, but still had that same cloudy look in his eyes. Trevor just wanted to eat him up. 

“Y-Y-Yes baby- I d-d-” Michael tried to say, crying out when Trevor gave him a hard thrust before he could finish his words. 

“What was that?” Trevor demanded, twisting a hand into the boy’s shirt and bringing those hips closer to his own. He steadied himself by bringing Michael’s hips up, fixing the hold he had on him, then forcing himself deep into Michael.   
  
Michael pawed at Trevor’s arms softly as he tried to find any sort of sense that would be helpful, he could barely talk, let alone think anything but how much he wanted Trevor to destroy him. He whimpered worthlessly as he was thrust into. His teeth digging into his lower lip enough to draw a bit of blood. He barely registered the fact that Trevor slid his shirt up, and was toying softly with his nipples. Tears instantly burned his eyes again at the over-stimulation he was receiving, his body jolted to get out of Trevor’s grasp, but he was so much stronger than he really let on. And was able to keep Michael pinned down. 

“I need you to fucking answer me, Michael.” Trevor hissed at him, starting up a pace with his hips that bounced Michael deliciously up and down that bench. Every time Trevor pushed in his hips curved slightly, searching for anything to get Michael to speak up. The tightness snuck up on him and pushed him over the edge slightly, though he clung onto it, his teeth clenching as he buried himself into Michael relentlessly. His body trembled in protest as his limbs shook uncontrollably from around the Canadian. He really needed to get off, and this guy was killing him. 

“Trevor- I- I can’t-'' Michael babbled, hands weaving into Trevor’s hair as he pulled himself up slightly to kiss him, his tongue pushed in and slipping dumbly against Trevor’s as tears spilled from his eyes. He tried to keep himself sane, but it was all too much. He felt a tightness filling his gut as Trevor sped himself up, his hands began to shake and the blackness that filled the back of his eyelids began to sparkle with stars. Trevor stopped his thrusts instantly, making Michael call out weakly and cling to him as his orgasm was ripped from him in the simplest of ways. 

He'd never been edged before in his whole life. This was something he had never felt at all. He clung onto Trevor and quietly sobbed softly as the pressure in his gut dialed down and the beast from inside hunkered down and relaxed into the painful feeling of just being hard. Trevor barely seemed to pay attention, his lips closed over Michael's shoulder for a moment, before he picked his head back up and looked at him. 

“I’m sure you can.” Trevor teased, his heated eyes stared into Michael’s who sheepishly opened them and gasped under his breath, staring back wordlessly. As Trevor pushed in and twisted his hips, Michael’s body was sent into shocks as he brushed against his prostate, he jolted forward only to be pinned back instantly by a strong hand. Trevor let out a dark huff and crawled up slightly, one hand coming down to keep those legs around himself so that the position was the same for them. 

Trevor squeezed his throat harshly. Glaring into his face as Michael made quiet choking noises. He let him go and picked himself up slightly, his eyes never leaving the pitiful ones below him. 

“I did...I-I wanted this-” Michael finally gasped out as he panted for air, Trevor nodded a little and scooped him up gently, bringing him closer to him and sitting back. Michael settled on his thighs and instantly leaned forward and buried his face against Trevor’s neck.

The Canadian wasn’t finished yet. Oh, _definitely_ not.  
  
His hands softly smoothed up against Michael’s ass as he shivered and whimpered, without a warning, he picked him up by his ass and slid him up his member. Michael gasped out at the new feeling and groaned against his neck when Trevor simply let him go and let him sink down on his own. He leaned forward and captured Michael’s earlobe between his teeth, he sucked in the skin and tugged on his ear. 

“Move for me, Mike,” he whispered and smirked wide when Michael clumsily did just that, his eyes closing tightly and mouth closing gently over Trevor’s neck as he peppered the skin with kisses and gentle love bites. Trevor sighed softly and swept his hand under the shirt and against his back. Rubbing gently as he let Michael catch his breath. 

Michael was a complete and utter mess. His short dark brown hair was messy, those ocean blue eyes were dazed out and broken in a beautiful way. He panted and looked up at Trevor, leaning forward and capturing his lips once again in a warm and deep kiss. For some reason, something inside of his chest fluttered uncomfortably inside of him. He pulled back slightly and looked at Trevor, he had a small smile on his face after the kiss. Michael felt a part inside of him warm. He leaned in and pressed his forehead to Trevor’s, hands finding his and squeezing them.   
  
The boy lifted his head, catching Trevor’s jaw in his mouth as he began to bounce a lot faster, gasping gently with the sounds of their skin hitting together. He began to pant softly, soft whimpers leaving his throat that fanned that spark that Trevor had on the inside ever since Michael pulled him into this room. His hands moved away, closing around his throat and squeezing his hands tightly around the expanse of skin with a small hiss. His hips rocked up against Michael and he finally decided he would cut the poor boy some slack as he sobbed quietly in pleasure. 

Trevor lowered a hand to hold onto Michael’s hip, thrusting into him with all of the strength he had to spare while still being latched to his throat. He panted with his thrusts as he did everything he could to finish them both off.

“Mikey, I’m close baby- are you-” He let go of his throat quickly and lowered his hands to his thighs, holding him steady as he pushed himself up into Michael as he came himself. A moan escaping his chest and echoing through the room. He pulled at Michael to get off but mostly released inside of him with a shuddering gasp. Sweat dripped down his face as he held Michael who whimpered weakly and hugged onto him. Trevor glanced down and noticed the mess that Michael had made against his shirt and scowled slightly, pulling him off and sitting him down. 

The quarterback slumped against the wall, shaking slightly and trying to regain his breath. He didn’t have much time because somehow his was yanked up and his cheek brushed into the fabric of Trevor’s shirt. He blinked and regained a sense of where he was, in the moments he was dazed Trevor had gotten up from his place on the bench and was now standing in front of him. Trevor clenched Michael’s chain in his hand, then twisted it, a little more demanding than he was previously. Michael looked up, shocked at the other before he noticed the mess of cum on his shirt and cringed slightly.   
  
“T-” 

_“Lick,”_ Trevor barked at him, “I can’t go back into class like this, so you are going to clean up your mess. Lick it up.” 

Michael shuddered at the words and nodded, staring at the shirt for a moment, before leaning in a little more and dragging his tongue across the expanse, he closed his eyes, avoiding any more eye contact than he had to with Trevor who just had a stupid smirk spread across his face the entire time Michael went about cleaning off his shirt. When he was finished, he leaned back and glared at Trevor, who still had a tight grip on the chain. 

“Good,” Trevor said slowly, then released him, leaning in and kissing him. “Better clean up, we have class soon.” He moved to grab his pants, giving a side-eyed glance to Michael as he did so since he expected him to do the same, but he instead sat dumbfounded on the bench. 

Michael felt a foreign feeling run down his thigh as he sat there almost like a fucking dog kneeling on the bench. He scowled, getting up and pulling at his pants so that they mostly went up to his thighs, and did a little wobble over to the water fountain. 

“Jesus, I’m all slick now-”   
  
“Hey, boy, you asked for it,” Trevor said before he could complain much, a grin on his face as Michael flipped him off with a smile, cleaning himself off and then pulling his pants back up, putting everything into place, and then tucking his shirt back in. 

“Mikey?” Trevor said, not turning to Michael as he put on his jacket. “Are we still meeting up afterward?” 

“You know we are.” Michael snickered a little, moving to Trevor and sliding his hands against his sides, laying his head against his shoulder and kissing the side of his face. He was regaining that sense of control. 

“Good,” Trevor sighed out and smiled back, laying his head against Michael’s slowly, relaxing from all the tension from earlier. He liked this side of Michael just as he liked controlling him. 

The bell rang and Michael pulled away slowly, a reluctant sigh escaping him as he kept his eyes on Trevor. 

“I’m gonna have to figure out a way to keep these hidden until then, though.” he joked, a hand coming up to run against the red marks that stained his throat. He reached and tucked his chain back under his shirt, before backing up, staring at Trevor. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, Trevor,” he said, holding the door open for him.

Trevor smiled and saluted him, but his brain was still riding out the wave of euphoria. His entire body was humming like he’d been jolted by an electrical fence, and his mind was on autopilot as he sauntered into Business Math. Balance a checkbook? Fuck, he couldn’t even balance his emotions, much less that.

The pencil tapped at his lips precariously, and so absorbed in a daydream he was that he hadn’t even bothered to notice that the tip was skimming past into his mouth, causing a few around him to snicker and point. Aw, what the fuck did he even care about them, anyway? The secret he now carried within him wrapped around him like a soothing, gentle blanket.

He scrawled their names together on his notebook and drew hearts, but just as quickly scribbled them away, ashamed that someone might see and connect Michael to him. He didn’t want to ruin shit, had felt like he’d been doing that his whole miserable life, no matter how many social workers told him he wasn’t to blame for his family. No matter how many times he told himself he was just a victim of circumstances.

He was constantly waiting for something bad to happen because it was just inevitable around him. So it had to be him, right? Reasonable deduction.

Michael wouldn’t last long. There were things he didn’t know. This was just a pleasurable distraction like they _all_ were in one way or another. God, he was already fucking in love with Townley even if he’d barely known him for hours and had only actually seen several days beforehand, but it was like the mythology books he’d pour over in the library on long nights when he was younger, cold, and halfway starving to death: his attachment to Michael almost seemed like something recorded in the constellations or carved out by the Fates themselves. It was otherworldly, and he couldn’t explain why it was, but that it just was.  
  
But would it endure? Could it survive the possibility of the school finding out? Degradation? Michael losing his reputation, his family, any potential scholarships or college offers? Would it survive Trevor’s own goddamn mess? Would Michael want to be with someone who’d had to steal to live? Who’d had to whore himself out at his mom’s request to make ends meet? And that didn’t even get into his own fucked up feelings about himself. He was pretty goddamn sure Michael, dear sweet fucking Michael who’d demanded to be fucked and choked like a rag-doll, would run away from the Vivienne Westwood skirt mock-ups Trevor had made by sewing machine at his old school, buried alongside the dresses he kept away from other’s eyes. Those were saved for days when he felt…different, for lack of a better word. He had no other way to explain it, but he sure as hell knew that there was no way that Michael would be up for that. The guy could have any chick he chose and knowing Trevor’s luck, he was presumably in the closet or some shit, so no, those feelings…that talk, it would be the end.

The bell sounded, and his thoughts lingered with him into English where Brad was awaiting him, working desperately to gain his attention, but he was busy staring out the window at the blue skies that reminded him of what he was missing currently. He couldn’t stop picturing it, how gorgeous Michael had looked writhing beneath him or riding him to orgasm, how fucking powerful it had been to direct him to lick his own cum…it had all been such a rush. He wasn’t accustomed to being the lead, and at these fucking schools, there was a pecking order, so to fuck a god like Townley? To have him quivering and moaning and barely remembering how to speak? Coming apart at the seams? That had felt incredible. It had been a comeuppance for every fucker who’d ever tormented him.  
  
But another part of him hated himself for thinking like that, that poor Mike didn’t warrant all of that treatment even if he’d pleaded for it. He was someone to be revered and offered the heavens, but instead, he was thrust into the flames.

Oh, how delectable he’d looked though. He really wanted to sketch it. That or him on his knees, facing up with his mouth open expectantly --

Fuck, he couldn’t get hard in class, dammit, not now. _Think of something else._

The old bat they had for a teacher yammered on about idioms, and it took a lot of energy just to keep his lids from slamming shut after all the activity he’d been up to during the day. A slight grin graced his lips as he realized it wasn’t yet over. Two more periods and he could make up earlier to Mikey. Let him do whatever he wanted.

“Hey!”

Whispering came from behind him, and he wanted so badly to ignore it, but Brad poked the back of his neck with a meaty digit, and Trevor rolled his eyes, cursing silently to himself. “What is it?” he hissed back.

“I need to meet you after school about somethin’.”

Trevor winced and squinted ahead at the teacher to see if she was paying attention since Brad was being about as obvious and loud as a goddamn radio, broadcasting his business. She was nevertheless at the board, writing something, so he groaned and murmured, “I’m busy, and will you keep it down, you dumbass, before you get us busted?”

Brad kicked the back of his desk and grumbled, “Busy with _what?_ Have you crawled up Townley’s ass now or somethin’??”

That stunt had won the scrutiny of the teacher, unfortunately, who snapped around and contemplated the both of them warily. “Mr. Snider, is there something you want to share with everyone else, perhaps?”

Trevor watched curiously as Brad stared back at her for a full minute, and he swore he could smell the smoke from the gears spinning in the guy’s head as he formulated an answer before he reluctantly looked down at his desk and shook his head. “No, ma’am.”  
  
Then she turned toward Trevor. “Mr. Philips, what about _you?_ ”

“Me?” he scoffed and crossed his arms protectively. “Brad was the one bugging _me_ to begin with.” But one gaze up at her face told him that wasn’t the best retort, so he slid down in his seat and mumbled bitterly, “You won’t hear a peep out of me.”

“Good.” Trevor watched her move like something out of a horror film, almost appearing to shift only her head and not her body too, and he shuddered. _Christ_ , he had to be growing tired.

For the remainder of English, Brad blessedly kept his mouth shut, but Trevor heard the occasional long sigh or grunt, and it was becoming so fucking annoying that he almost dared to say something a few times, teacher’s bitching be damned, but he just kept focusing out the window and mentally calling for the bell to ring. When it finally did, he sprinted for the doors and didn’t stop until he was outside. He couldn’t take it anymore today. He was done, couldn’t concentrate, wasn’t capable of doing anything except going back to those feelings of yanking that chain, being lost in the passion earlier, the bliss of it all, and he preferred nothing more than to go back, to devour Michael’s mouth in his own, swallow him as if he were sustenance, and drain his cum like it was the goddamn ambrosia of the gods.

Damn.

What the _fuck_ was wrong with him.

Well, whatever. He needed a nap. The tree outside of the shop class looked nice and comfy right now. Spanish and Geography could wait for another day. To hell with it all. His mind craved Michael, desired to be lost to dreams.

Michael had watched Trevor leave the room with butterflies filling his throat and stomach. What was this bullshit feeling that began to erupt through him? Why in the hell was he falling into this abyss? And why was Trevor so delicious to him? He couldn’t possibly put his finger on the other man. Why Trevor was able to work him in all the right ways. The bruises on his neck were the gentle reminder that he had no fucking _clue_ what he knew. Trevor opened a whole new world of possibilities for him that he had never had the mind or balls to think about. 

It began to frustrate him, in all honesty. He didn’t think he would move to this. The uncomfortable feeling of being...ugh.. _half-filled_ was something he never thought about. The bruises that scattered against his throat and on his thighs and hips. Those warm amber eyes haunted the back of his mind. The dirty words, the taste of his own cum on his tongue..

He headed into his own class. Taking a seat and silently rolling it around his thumb. His eyes were fixed on the blackboard but he was anywhere but there, imagining the other man that he spent his lunch period with. Every time that he happened to blink he imagined those thighs that were previously slamming into the back of his own settled on top of his lap. He imagined his face buried between them and hands on that beautiful ass that he had caught himself staring at ever since he met him.  
  
Something racked through his body at that moment. His heart surging again into a steady race. Thinking about that face, those eyes...that body. He desperately wanted to figure out Trevor, wanted to know how to work him just as well as Trevor knew...he wanted to understand what was going on in that mind of his….what _was_ he hiding? 

He was hiding something, something that he didn’t want Michael to see, and that pissed him off to no abandon. Why was he like that? He knew that he didn’t understand things or his background, but why the fuck could Trevor not give him a chance? Was there something wrong about him? He was so lost in thought that he didn’t register the teacher asking him a question. The class around him laughed and he looked up, biting the end of the pen and glaring around him, giving a slow shrug. The teacher narrowed her eyes at him and he was cut off by a red-headed girl. She politely gave the teacher the answer and watched as the older woman huffed and turned away, writing in a sentence.

Michael looked at the girl with a thankful smile for saving his ass. She looked at him and gave him a gentle smile and he leaned back, winking. Ah, and there it was. The charm that comes with being a “town hero” or whatever his title was. That was what began to anger him again. 

Trevor didn’t know anything about him, only the things that Brad told him. Trevor didn’t know what stupid things he did behind closed doors. The things he did...the way he knew how to curl his fingers deep inside of himself and the way he twisted his fingers around his throat any time he needed to get off. Trevor didn’t know him. He didn’t know the side that craved for someone to take care of and someone to take care of him in return. Fucking _Brad_ was going to ruin it for him.   
  
There it was. The anger pit that he previously fell into. The rage washed over him, and when the girl looked back at him with those sweet innocent doe eyes he returned them with dark eyes. Anger on the edge of his mind, but suppressing his emotions was something that he was somewhat used to. They were what got him into his sexual habits in the first place. 

It was what got him in the back of his car on top of a girl. All of the suspension from the game and the sight of those cheerleaders. It was the best sex he had in a long while before Trevor. Trevor... _Trevor_ Trevor. He knew that something wasn’t going to go well after school. Something always seemed to happen when all was going well. It was the same thing that happened in the bathroom the first time he got himself into those delicious lips. 

Brad...or _really…somebody_ is going to ruin this fun they were having. It pissed him off to no end. When the bell rang to signal their next class he instead went off to the bathroom, using the bathroom and staying quiet. He heard footsteps and didn’t really mind them until he glanced over through the corner of his eyes and saw Brad go into a stall. He scowled and zipped his pants up, washing his hands and heading out angrily. He was so sick of seeing his stupid face. Any time he saw Brad he saw Trevor right at his hip. Just...standing there. It pissed him off to no end, and he knew he needed to escape. He went down the hall and shoved past anyone in his way. He needed to get his mind off badly from the fucker. 

Not only Brad,...but purely _Trevor_. He barely knew him and he was driving him fucking mad. Maybe it would be good to go sit outside for a while and cool off…   
  
He pushed past the side doors and into the slightly cold air of outside, passing past the shop class he should be attending, and instead, moving to find a tree to lay and sulk under. As he moved to his spot, he stopped quickly at the sight and couldn’t help the smile at the body that was slumped against the tree. He quietly moved towards him and kneeled down beside him, giving his side a little nudge as if to check if he was still alive. 

“Mm..what the fuck,” the Canadian muttered, pushing off, then slowly relaxing when he saw that it was Michael who sat beside him. He turned away and sat up slowly. “Oh...hey.” 

“You really need to stop stealing my peace and quiet spots,” Michael smirked, moving to gently nudge at Trevor’s face and slid a thumb against his chin. He leaned in and gave him a friendly kiss on the lips. Trevor leaned into the kiss softly but didn’t move his arms away from hugging himself. Michael pulled away softly and leaned on him, laying down slightly. Michael’s body closed around Trevor's, and he couldn’t help but coax himself into the warmth that was of Michael. 

The two remained like that for a moment, leaning on each other and giving soft pecks and kisses here and there. Michael was about to make up some kind of excuse to get away,...not that he didn’t like lazily kissing and cuddling the beautiful being before him, but he noticed how Trevor’s jaw trembled when he shifted, and he felt his ice-cold hands smooth against his sides as they laid there and cuddled. Michael’s heart melted and he moved to shrug off his jacket and slid it around Trevor, coaxing him to put his arms in the sleeves so that the jacket’s back was pressed against Michael’s chest and any of the warmth from Michael’s back was now on Trevor’s front. Trevor nestled his nose into Michael’s neck slowly, and Michael grinned softly, bringing him closer and settling his head over the top of Trevor's.   
  
Any noises from around them were drowned out by sleep, and nobody - unless they were looking for someone behind the trees - could see their sleeping bodies. It was a perfect hiding place and Michael was content with being able to just nap with the other man...no matter how bad his mind was thinking of him. His heart absolutely tore up at the gentle snores coming from him. He brought him as close as he could and fell asleep right there, breathing softly against the top of his head with small noises. Unaware of the curious peer that had been looking around for his best friend ever since he left class.

Trevor couldn’t recall the last time he’d had such peacefully lazy dreams, laden with the sensation of humid summer days and forever fields of blossoms, some wound carelessly into his hair with Michael’s eyes dancing gaily at him, and the echoes of laughter filling the air as they ran hand in hand with each other. It was unreal to him, so innocent he felt he could shatter it with just a misplaced thought...open his mouth, and like a massive dragon, a sour flame would obliterate everything in his beautiful pastel fantasy. 

Dream Michael was whirling him around and around, and he needed nothing to get high because the emotions were dizzying and appealing enough on their own. It was a rush he hadn’t known in so many years, and it concluded with them in a bed of daisies, staring into each other’s eyes. Dream Michael was a gentleman and lauded him on his pretty floral Betsey Johnson dress, and it did weird shit to his heart that he wasn’t aware it was capable of acting while his stomach lurched pleasantly, eyes ever vigilant of a daisy being guided behind his ear while Michael’s mouth drew close enough to detect the sweet and sour aroma of his breath. 

He was loath to move, scared to ruin it all, and frightened for reasons he couldn’t entirely comprehend, but his heart pumped wildly as he fixated on the shadowy eyes above him. 

And suddenly, the cheery, gentle day grew violently turbulent, and Michael disappeared into it while all Trevor could understand was his name being hissed fiercely from somewhere. 

“Trevor! Hey, Philips!”

He gradually, reluctantly, drifted back to reality, warmer than he’d been. He pulled closer to the still-snoozing Michael for a minute, basking in the heat his body produced. It was like hugging the one teddy bear he’d managed to own as a child, except Michael was unquestionably more tempting than Mr. Snuffles had been, that was for goddamn sure. 

God, he had it so fucking bad for this guy. What was he going to _do?_

“Trevor, you fuckface!! I know you’re back there!”

Oh, Jesus tapdancing _Christ._ He paled somewhat, remembering that Brad had wanted to speak to him after school, so they must have been asleep for a while, at least. Groaning, he moved away and shifted up to a sitting position, wondering what the fuck he could want. Playing it as cool as he could, even though his heart was on a one-way crash course for his throat, he yawned bitterly, “Yeah, and I was dreaming for the first time in forever until you interrupted. I let the day get away from me, so what’s up?”

The shorter stout blonde pushed through the shrubbery toward them, and Trevor’s nerves became very alive then as he jabbed Michael awake and struggled to wrest himself out of the damning evidence they currently shared. 

Michael’s glassy eyes opened, gazing upward, as his mouth sought to form words, “Huh, what’s--”

Trevor clamped his hand over Michael’s mouth quickly and hoped he wouldn’t hate him. He tried to bend his head toward Brad, who was still trying to get through the boxwood hedges, but they were thankfully dense and slowing him down a bit. 

Yet they didn’t slow down his mouth. “You think I can’t see you two there??”

The hackles on the back of Trevor’s neck were standing on end, and Michael gripped his forearm, gawking at him with a distressed, guilty look on his face. He recognized what that meant. Michael couldn’t get caught. Reputations were at stake. 

Trevor was a nobody, always a nobody wherever he went. He could get expelled and be in a shitload of trouble. Fuck, he was probably going to be. He had promised. He _wanted_ to be good, didn’t want to be a constant fuck-up, dammit. 

But when he looked down at the panic in those normally calm waters, he felt the fire in him burn. He’d do anything for Michael Townley. He’d move the fucking heavens themselves just to make him smile again.  
  
He brought his index finger to his lips and shushed Michael, who lingered as still as possible against the grass while he finished shirking off the jacket and launched himself up off the ground furiously, making a beeline for Brad as he vaulted over the hedging. “Precisely _what_ the fuck do you think you can see, Brad??” he spat out vehemently. 

Graciously, Brad peered around them to see if there was anyone else, and Trevor was suddenly grateful for that small favor because at least that meant that Brad considered him something of a friend instead of just being another asshole in a long line of assholes. “Trevor, you know what I’m fucking talking about. I...OK, I kind of got the whole fruity vibe from you because, well, _art_ class,” he stammered and kicked at the gravel beneath his tennis shoe.

If this was just about him, he could handle it. It would hurt, but he’d repeatedly had to deal, hadn’t he? He didn’t give a fuck about losing another friend. “So get on with it then. I don’t have all damn day.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t,” Brad sneered. “You’ve got Townley waiting on you, _don’t_ you?”

That tore it. His feet moved before his head even knew what he was doing, and his hands were on Brad’s chest, shoving him toward the school building violently. “You _don’t_ know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ll--”

“I _told_ you, Trevor!” he collapsed against the red brick, heaving, and Trevor thought madly to himself that it was slightly pathetic that he was the fucking right guard of the team, but he’d folded like a goddamn deck of cards just now. “It’s not about you! You’re cool! Townley is just bad news. He’s always been bad fucking news since we were little. There’s just something about him, OK?”  
  
Trevor shook his head against the peculiar feelings he picked up from these discussions he kept having with his friend and snarled, “Look, it doesn’t matter what happened in the past. You don’t know anything, OK? And you’re not going to breathe a word of this to anyone.” Brad started to say something else, but Trevor pushed him up against the coarse brick, causing the guy to cringe. “I _mean_ it, Brad. You’re my friend, but you _don’t_ know me. I can look out for myself. I’ve been doing it for a long time.” He released the hold he had on Snider’s coat and stepped backward. 

“Yeah, whatever,” Brad muttered indignantly, brushing past him. “I’m out.” 

Trevor watched him leave and didn’t release the breath he’d been holding until he was absolutely out of sight. Then he numbly walked back toward the set of trees and sidled down against them, leaning into Michael. He exhaled slowly and clasped his hands in his lap, reflecting on a million things a minute. How his high school career had nearly gone down the drain and his art career with it. How this presumably wasn’t over, not by a long-shot. Brad really hated Michael for some reason, and vice versa, and neither was willing to divulge why.

Michael placed his arm around him and pulled him in close. “So?”

“It’s OK,” Trevor sighed, although he honestly didn’t feel it. He shivered under the shade, having become so cold again. He tried so desperately to recapture the feeling of Michael's warmth, but no matter what he did, it was just gone right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can Brad keep a secret? ... guess we'll have to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! Please Follow us on Tumblr ):D
> 
> @trepidatingboarfetus
> 
> @mourn3d


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